


Rift

by pink_shoes



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 22:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 37,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pink_shoes/pseuds/pink_shoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hoping to determine the location of Shockwave and the last free Decepticons, Prowl kills one of Soundwave's cassettes. The officers try to cover up the incident, but when the news becomes public, it tears the Autobot faction in two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Catalyst

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first transformers fic. It's terrible and I'm ashamed of it and the only reason I haven't deleted it is because my friends have begged me not to. 
> 
> If you've come here from my newer work, there is literally nothing here for you but disappointment and melodrama. 
> 
> The only thing I can say is I eventually got better.

The war was over, everyone was saying. Prime hadn’t made an official announcement, but everyone knew it was only a matter of time. The energon rations had already been lifted. Parties were being planned. The femmes had called to ask when everyone was coming home. Even the humans had reported it in their newspapers—DECEPTICON COMMAND CAPTURED, TROOPS DECIMATED IN LANDSLIDE BATTLE. A little sensationalist, but surprisingly accurate for the human news.

What the newspapers didn’t report was that Shockwave had managed to escape with his staff (four seekers, Reflector, and some medics) before the Autobots arrived en masse through the space bridge. This was partly because none of the humans knew who Shockwave was, but mostly because it didn’t make for an as exciting headline.

The battle had ended with the Decepticon army scattered and shattered. Extreme energon deprivation had taken its toll at long last. Injured or dead mechs littered the battlefield. Soundwave was running around trying to collect up his cassettes, all else forgotten. Starscream had stood in front of his semi-conscious wingmates in an uncharacteristic display of loyalty. Wielding Megatron in his alt-mode, he’d managed to hit Brawn, Trailbreaker, Windcharger, and Bluestreak before being tackled by the twins. And that had been the end.

The Ark’s officers weren’t celebrating just yet. Prowl and Red Alert had stated that the war could not be declared won until the threat of Shockwave was eliminated. Everyone else had been forced to agree. Shockwave was a formidable opponent, even when working alone. He needed to be brought in quickly, before he could strike.

That was why now, in the darkness of the brig, Prowl was using an electro-blade to dismantle Rumble on the interrogation table.

“Shockwave’s location?” Prowl asked again. His tone was unusually drone-like—he was operating with his battle computer fully engaged, and would not be hindered by the ethical issues surrounding the slow torture of a split-spark’s symbiote. Cold logic had guided him to interrogate a cassette (Soundwave had a seventy-three percent chance of giving up the coordinates if he believed a cassette’s spark was in danger). He’d selected Rumble by chance. In the dim light, it was a little difficult to see the energon spilling off the table and onto the floor.

Soundwave’s mask and visor had been taken away, and he could not keep the pain from his faceplates. Buzzsaw and Ratbat were curled up in his chest compartment, radiating terror. He held Frenzy in his arms, trying to provide what little comfort he could. His only consolation was that Ravage and Laserbeak were still free. Laserbeak had been on Cybertron gathering data at the time of the battle, and Ravage had simply evaded capture. Through the bond that they shared, he knew that they were safe.

::Please, please, can’t you just tell him?:: That was Frenzy. All comms had been deactivated, but the cassettes could still communicate easily with Soundwave and each other through their bond.

::You know he can’t,:: said Buzzsaw. ::If they get Shockwave, they’ll get Ravage and Laserbeak as well.::

::When are we going home?:: Ratbat, Soundwave’s youngest, had not kept up with current events very well. He was just over a decivorn online, barely more than an infant in Cybertronian terms. After the battle, the Autobots had pried open Soundwave’s chest compartment and been surprised to find an unfamiliar cassette clicking happily at them. Only the twins’ desperate pleading had kept Blaster from taking him away.

Soundwave didn’t reply, and instead continued to transmit feelings of safety and comfort to his creations. Pinned firmly into the base of his neck was an irritating little device that hindered his telepathy. A set of electro-bars separated them from Prowl and Rumble. They’d all learned joors ago that pleading was useless. So he sat, in a sort of shell-shocked daze, and watched.

Prowl pressed one hand to Rumble’s chest and ripped his arm off with the other. The cassette gave a cry of pain.

::Boss!:: wailed Frenzy.

::…fine. ’m fine. ’s nothing. Don’t tell ’em slag, boss.:: They all felt Rumble try to muster up a little flicker of optimism. ::Shockwave’ll…probably be here in a few klicks…::

“You’re sick,” rasped a new voice. “Sick.”

Soundwave glanced over to the opposite end of the brig. He had no love for the Seekers, but he knew this must be deeply disturbing for the two who watched. Seekers had innate guardian programming—not nearly as powerful as a femme’s, but still present. Cassettes had very small sparks, and their minds were unable to develop past adolescence, regardless of how long they were online. Under Cybertronian law, they were similar to younglings. 

The Decepticon Seekers had all managed to suppress the programming enough to terrorize the Aerialbots or kick a cassette down a hallway every once in a while (though they all claimed blinding processor-aches when ordered to face the Dinobots). But to be forced to sit in an enclosed area with nothing to distract from the screams was probably maddening.

“Just kill him already!” shrieked Starscream. He was standing as close to the bars as one could get without risking a burn. Behind him, sitting on the floor, Thundercracker shuddered and pressed his forearms to either side of his helm, covering his audials. Prowl looked away from the cassette for a moment.

“You wish to provide the coordinates?”

“Frag you!” The seeker was trembling with fury. Thundercracker went to him and drew him away from the bars.

“It won’t help,” Soundwave heard him say. “Come on, just sit down.”

Thundercracker did not need to be there in the Ark’s brig, but Ratchet had insisted a Seeker should not be left alone in such a small, enclosed space. If not for that, he would have ended up in the more elaborate prison on Cybertron with the rest of the new war prisoners. Skywarp had teleported away before he could be taken in, and so Thundercracker was the only logical choice.

Prowl ripped off Rumble’s chestplate, eliciting another scream. Now Soundwave could see the faint indigo light of his cassette’s spark, pulsing fast with fear. Prowl gave it a calculating look. He reached for it with one hand. 

It was only now that the inhabitant of the brig’s third cell, who had remained withdrawn for the entire session, turned his helm towards the table. His optics were dim and unreadable.

“The coordinates?” Prowl asked, looking at each cell in turn. His fingers began to curl around the fluttering spark.

::Boss…?:: asked Rumble, and Soundwave broke at last.

“Desist!” he yelled. “Coordinates: Quadrant Three, Section—”

At the same moment, Prowl closed his palm around the light of the cassette’s spark. 

When he opened his fist again, it was empty.


	2. Unification

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyfire gets in over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings. Just lots of talking.

It began with Bluestreak running into the science wing and yelling, “War’s over!”, startling everyone and prompting Perceptor to knock over an entire rack of test tubes.

“Hooligan!” cried Perceptor, desperately trying to save his samples. Skyfire hurried over to help.

“What are you talking about, Blue?” asked Wheeljack.

“It’s over, it’s over, we won! They weren’t expecting us at the plant just like Prowl said they wouldn’t and they were so low on energon that it was barely a fight at all and there’s so many prisoners that Red Alert’s glitching and the humans are here with cameras and they want to ask us questions and there’s high-grade in the twins’ quarters!”

“You are leaking,” said Perceptor.

“Oh yeah but I’m fine honest Ratch says it just needs a patch but Trailbreaker and Windcharger aren’t doing so great and Brawn really isn’t doing so great so he didn’t have time, and then I think he sort of forgot and Hoist was busy too, so I came here—”

“Sit down,” sighed Wheeljack. “I’ll patch it for you. You know not to go running around with injuries.”

“Yeah I know but listen—” and he was off, giving a wild and enthusiastic retelling of the battle. 

“I wish to propose a new regulation. Mechs younger than twelve thousand vorns are hereby barred from the science wing,” said Perceptor crossly. Apparently the end of the Great War was not as interesting as his experiment had been.

“Who was captured?” asked Skyfire. 

“More like who wasn’t captured! I don’t what they’re gonna do with everyone! Ironhide says we should just let ’em starve but Prime says they need to be brought to trial and then Ironhide said we could let them starve and try their corpses and save on energon but Prime said that’s not what we do and Ironhide said, come on, we all know they’re gonna be executed anyway and Prime got mad and went real quiet but you know I think some of the others want to make them into slaves—”

“Alright, we’re done here,” said Wheeljack, taking a look at the expression on Skyfire’s faceplates and pushing Bluestreak towards the exit. “Out, now.”

“Okay, okay! Thanks for the patch and you should come and join the parties it’s going to be—” his words were cut off as the lab doors slid shut. 

Perceptor went and activated a cleaning drone. Skyfire sank down into a too-small chair, vents heaving.

“Don’t listen to Blue,” said Wheeljack. “He’s just excited. Do you…do you want to talk about it?”

Skyfire shook his helm. It wasn’t much of a contest, but Perceptor and Wheeljack were the two mechs on the Ark that he was closest to. They knew about his relationship with Starscream. They knew about the bond that he'd kept hidden from everyone, save Ratchet.

The victory made sense. Skyfire had known the Decepticons were low on fuel—even when Starscream was angry with him, he could always be won over with energon sweets. Two cubes always got him a kiss; six had once earned the coordinates of some human hostages.

Still, it hurt to know that Starscream had him so completely blocked that Skyfire hadn’t even realized that there’d been a battle at all. Tenatively, Skyfire reached out across the bond, only to hit a stubborn but familiar wall.

::Star?:: he asked, cautiously pushing at the blocks. They lifted, and for one glorious moment, the bond was open again. Then…

::Leave me alone!:: Starscream screamed into the link.

It hurt, but Skyfire rallied well. ::Are you sure?::

::I said leave me alone!::

::I can—::

::You can what, Skyfire?:: sneered Starscream.

Skyfire fell silent as he realized Starscream was probably right. What could he do? He was just one mech, and still very much an outsider on the Ark. Not a warrior. Not anyone Prime would listen to…and even if Prime was inclined to listen, what in the universe could Skyfire say?

Skyfire sensed the faintest echoes of acknowledgments from Starscream before the bond slammed shut again.

* * *

Three joors later, Skyfire was flying over the desert. It was very late, and the nighttime wind was soothing on his plating. He’d given up on trying to get any work done for the rest of the day, and nobody had really cared when he said he was going out to stretch his wings. The war was over, after all.

That was when, quite unexpectedly, the bond opened again. After being silent for so long, Starscream was now transmitting feelings of helplessness and rage. Skyfire’s automatic reaction was to send back all the love he could manage.

::Star? Are you alright?::

::Frag off.:: The bond slammed shut again. Skyfire began to pry at it in a way that he knew was irritating and distracting.

::Stop!::

::Not until you tell me what’s wrong,:: said Skyfire in that very patient way that he knew Starscream found infuriating.

::I’m fine!::

He was not fine, that much was painfully evident. It had been a long time since Starscream had been so angry. Skyfire tried to send his bondmate more soothing feelings and received the telepathic equivalent of a slap in the faceplates. 

It wasn’t always like this. They could go long stretches of time without speaking to each other, though occasionally Skyfire would receive a pulse of affection, which he always reciprocated. And sometimes, he’d get an intense little pinprick of need-want-love-longing, which he never refused.

::Are you still there?:: asked Starscream suddenly.

::Yes. Are you alright?::

::I’m fine, I told you.:: Nervous. He was nervous. ::Can you do something for me?::

::What do you need?:: asked Skyfire.

::Send your tape deck down to the brig.::

That was…unexpected. ::What?::

::Your tape deck, the split-spark.::

::Blaster?:: asked Skyfire.

::Whatever. Tell him to come down here now. Can you do that?::

::I…I suppose.:: Skyfire was confused, but he recalculated his course to take him back to the Ark. ::But what am I supposed to tell him?::

Bitterness flooded over the bond.

::Tell him the truth,:: said Starscream. ::Tell him your tactician just killed a cassette, and the others are fading out. Can you do that for me?::

Skyfire felt his engines stutter. ::No. You’re lying.::

::Send him down or I am going to spend the rest of the night watching three more sparklings die!::

::Prowl wouldn’t…::

::Oh, we’re long past ‘would’ and ‘wouldn’t’, Skyfire.:: There was scorn in the words. ::Your superior officers want this war over, and they’ll stop at nothing to make it happen.::

::This is ridiculous. This is insane.::

::You never did get the hang of the whole ‘war’ thing, did you? Look, your medic is good, I’ll give him that. But he doesn’t know slag about cassettes. I’ve been watching him flail around for a good two breems. Are you going to help us or not?::

Skyfire forced himself to remain calm. ::You know I will.::

::Good. Oh, and if you were thinking about charging down here and recuing me…don’t.::

::But—:: Skyfire was pretty sure he could break Starscream out if he really wanted to, though what he’d do after he’d accomplished it was far more hazy.

::I have a plan. If you ruin it, I’ll feed you your own optics.::

::Does it involve setting a planet on a collision course with its own sun?:: Skyfire asked before he could stop himself.

::When is everyone going to let that go? No. It’s a good plan. It will work. Keep the bond open.::

Skyfire found it incredibly hypocritical that Starscream was telling _him_ to keep the bond open, but he restrained himself.

::Don’t ask me to kill anyone,:: said Skyfire. ::That’s my only condition.::

::I wouldn’t dream of it,:: said Starscream, and he sent back three bursts of sarcasm for emphasis.


	3. Resonance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyfire takes a level in manipulation and has a small nervous breakdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More character death but nothing graphic.

It took less than a klik for Blaster to reach the brig after receiving Skyfire’s comm. He shoved past the guards, who were too surprised to move to stop him until he was already through the door. 

Once inside, Blaster found Prowl staring blankly at his hands while Jazz tried to comfort him. Ratchet was kneeling down on the floor of Soundwave’s cell, tending to an unmoving Frenzy and cursing. But Blaster’s optics were drawn to the bleeding heap of scrap on the interrogation table.

“What did you do?” Blaster cried. “Primus, what the frag did you do?” His body seemed to move of his own accord as he staggered to the table. The cassette was mercifully dead. He touched the little blue hand in disbelief. 

“His spark won’t stabilize,” reported Ratchet. Blaster spun around, fury in his optics.

“Course it won’t! Twin sparks need each other to synchronize, the host bond isn’t enough!” Blaster tried not to think of his own cassettes, safe in his quarters. He tried not to imagine them in Rumble’s place. “The frag? The frag! I thought we were supposed t’be better than this!”

“Blaster—” began Jazz.

“Don’t defend him! The Pit were you thinking, interrogating a cassette?”

Jazz’s arms tightened around Prowl, “C’mon, let’s go and—”

“No. You’re going nowhere. You’re gonna stay right here and watch this.” Blaster went over and hit Soundwave in the shoulder. “And you! Snap out of it, mech, the others need you. Ratch, check the other two cassettes. Their sparks should have been unaffected, but we can’t be certain.”

“Do you know if we can do anything for him?” asked Ratchet, indicating Frenzy. Blaster looked at him for a long moment.

“Make sure he’s comfortable,” said Blaster. “It’s going to be a long night.”

Ratchet nodded. Then he lowered his vocalizer. “Dare I ask how you knew about this?”

Blaster’s optics flicked to the cell on the far side of the brig, where two seekers watched them intently, but he said nothing.

* * *

Starscream had never seen Soundwave weep before. It was a surreal, almost eerie experience. The fact that Soundwave didn’t care who witnessed him crying over his cassette’s frame showed just how dire their situation had become.

::His optics are gold,:: Starscream informed Skyfire. 

::What?:: Skyfire sent a tiny pulse of confusion. 

::Soundwave. His optics are gold. Never knew that.::

::Are you alright?:: It was sickening, the amount of concern that poured in from the other end of the bond. Even more sickening was the way Starscream’s automatic response was to bask in it.

::Stop asking me that! I’m fine.::

::Did Blaster get there?::

::Yes, a few klicks ago.::

::How is Frenzy?::

::Not well.:: The medic was doing his best, but he wasn’t Primus. ::Where are you?::

::I’m still a few cycles away. But I’m on my way back.::

::Were you serious about helping me?::

Skyfire went silent, and Starscream didn’t push.

::What do you want me to do?:: asked Skyfire at last.

::I want you to go to Cybertron and find Shockwave. He’ll tell you what to do. If you want to be especially helpful, stop at the femme base on the way.::

::I don’t understand.::

::The femme base,:: repeated Starscream very slowly, suddenly feeling as though he was trying to explain something scientific to Skywarp. ::Tell them what happened. Tell them what Prowl did.::

::Why can’t I just rescue you and we get out of here?:: asked Skyfire.

::Believe it or not, this war actually means something to me, and I am not leaving without the others. You cannot rescue all of us by yourself. Get to Shockwave, I’ll give you the coordinates. Then you can come back and get us all out. Until then, I am staying right here.:: 

::I don’t like this, Star.:: _I don’t like your faction,_ he didn’t say, because he didn’t need to. Starscream already knew. But it appeared that he was slowly beginning to realize what Starscream had said all along: At the end of the day, Autobots were no better than Decepticons.

::Trust me, we can all hold out for longer than you think. Besides, I—:: Starscream’s spark suddenly twisted in horror as Frenzy gave a piercing scream. He couldn’t see the cassette, Blaster and Ratchet’s frames were blocking his view, but he could imagine it all too well.

::Star? Star, are you alright?::

::Frag. Frag, frag, frag. I’m fine. Frenzy’s…frag it, I can’t watch another one die.::

Skyfire sent a warm pulse of comfort over the bond. Starscream felt himself calm down a little. He risked a glance over at Thundercracker. His wingmate had pressed himself into the far corner of the cell. His optics were dark, and Starscream had a feeling he’d offlined his audials.

::I hate the little brats,:: said Starscream. ::Irritating, unintelligent, impolite. It’s this ridiculous fragging Quintesson guardian programming.::

Sorrow swept through the bond. ::I wish I could get you out of there,:: said Skyfire.

::Well, don’t!:: He tried to pull himself together, but Frenzy gave another mournful cry of pain and loss and Starscream gave up on decorum. 

Blaster was right. It was going to be a long, long night.

* * *

The spacebridge had been left unguarded, and so Skyfire embarked on his insane quest, barely understanding what he was doing or why he was doing it.

No. That was a lie. He was doing it because, much as he hated to admit it, Starscream still had him securely wrapped around his finger.

As always, the spacebridge sent Skyfire into the building that he still thought of as the Decepticon Headquarters. Autobot Femmes were running around, ransacking files and searching for hidden data. A few of them glanced at Skyfire, but only for a moment, and then they were back to their assignments. It was a relief to be ignored, but also sort of depressing. 

That was when more pain twisted through the bond, sudden and sharp. Skyfire halted. 

::Star?:: he asked.

::He’s gone,:: said Starscream. ::Frenzy. Little glitch followed his twin.::

Skyfire offlined his optics. ::I…I am sorry.::

::I knew he would,:: said Starscream, and Skyfire could tell he was trying to put on a brave façade. ::Twins. What are you going to do? Good riddance to them both.:: Harsh words, but Skyfire saw past them easily, as Starscream knew he would.

::I love you,:: said Skyfire.

::That’s because you’re insane,:: said Starscream, but Skyfire could have sworn he sensed affection.

Skyfire made his ways down the hallways, relying on memory and internal navigation to find his way out. When he was quite near to the exit, he caught sight of a little mint-green femme. She was very young, and her optics lit up when she saw him.

“Oh! Hey! You’re…” Moonracer’s voice trailed off. “Sorry, I don’t remember your name.” There was nothing new about that. Skyfire had been ‘Jetfire’ for the first three weeks with the Autobots until he’d worked up the nerve to start correcting them. “But I know who you are! Are the other mechs here, too?”

“No,” said Skyfire. “I’m just passing through. I’ll be gone in a moment.”

“No, stay!” Moonracer tugged at his servo, grinning. “Would you like some energon? We have so much energon now!”

“No, I can’t stay, I…” Skyfire looked into Moonracer’s young, earnest face, and could barely bring himself to say the words that he knew Starscream wanted him to say. “I…”

“Hey, is everything alright?” Moonracer frowned. “Do you need a medic?”

“No. No medic.” If he told her, she’d tell the other femmes. It would devastate them. Cause untold damage to the entire Autobot faction. Did they really deserve that? 

Skyfire thought of Wheeljack and Perceptor, who had tried their very best to understand him. No, they didn’t deserve that. And Ratchet, who had kept his secret from even Prime. He thought of the Aerialbots, fumbling and floundering sparklings that they were. They would never understand, but they lived in a simple world, where good and evil were laid out in stark and uncompromising terms.

Starscream wanted him to tell the femmes, but Starscream had changed, almost beyond recognition. Oh, he’d always been sarcastic and cutting and gleefully malevolent towards those who he felt had wronged him, but he’d never been a murderer. Starscream’s reply to this accusation was always the same: If Skyfire hadn’t been lost, if Skyfire had been there to see the worst of Sentinel Prime’s anti-war build legislation, then he would be no different than Starscream was now.

But maybe Starscream was wrong. Maybe Skyfire had changed too. Maybe waking up in a strange time on a strange world and being thrown into the middle of a war had done something to him. Maybe being ripped away from his bonded had twisted his processers.

Maybe it had turned him into the sort of mech who would rend an entire faction in two for the sake of his sparkmate.

Maybe it was time to start being selfish.

“Are you sure you don’t want a medic?” asked Moonracer. “You really don’t look so good. Is everything okay?”

Skyfire shook his helm.

“No,” he finally said. “It’s not. About a joor ago, Prowl killed one of Soundwave’s cassettes during an interrogation.”

Moonracer’s optics flickered. He could practically hear the guardian protocols coming online. 

“What?” she whispered.

“He wanted the location of the free Decepticons,” said Skyfire. It was odd. He almost felt like he was watching himself from a distance. Was this how Starscream felt all the time? He kept waiting to feel guilty, but that feeling never arrived. “He thought Soundwave would tell if he hurt one of the symbiotes. He…he ripped him apart and crushed his spark in his hand. His twin died not long after.”

Moonracer raised both servos to either side of her face, slowly. “No.”

“That’s why I’m leaving,” said Skyfire. “I can’t stay here anymore. With the Autobots.”

“Leaving,” murmured Moonracer. “That’s…that’s a good idea. I don’t…I don’t want to be here…anymore…my head hurts…”

“Hey.” Skyfire grabbed her shoulders to stabilize her. “Are you…do you need to lie down?”

Moonracer nodded like she was overcharged. Skyfire let her lean on him and brought her back to the main room, where the other femmes were. They were quick to fuss over her, and once Skyfire was certain that she was safe, he ran for the exit.

* * *

Seeing Cybertron as it was now was sparkbreaking. The buildings were dark and dingy, and some structures had been entirely annihilated. No friendly lights speckled the horizon. Not even the most common crystals grew in the abandoned courtyards.

It was like a nightmare, Skyfire reflected as he flew on towards the coordinates Starscream had given him. He remembered the old Cybertron as clearly as if only a few stellar cycles had passed between his ill-fated expedition and now. He’d always tried not to dwell on what had happened to his home—to everyone’s home!—over the course of the war. 

His family. His friends. The entire Academy. A sharp pain went through his spark as he thought of the Academy’s fate. _Which was not my fault, not my fault at all._ He felt Starscream send a little query over the bond.

::It’s nothing,:: he said, and Starscream did not press him. 

Joors later, he landed in Kaon. According to the coordinates he was quite near to Shockwave’s supposed location, but had seen absolutely no evidence that he was truly here. Nobody had demanded he identify himself as he entered the city-state’s airspace. No drones or missiles had been deployed to stop him. Was it possible that Starscream had been given false coordinates to keep him from betraying Shockwave’s true location even if he’d wanted to?

He transformed and began a slow walk through Kaon’s quiet streets. Like everywhere else, the houses were dark and empty. He was pretty certain that he could hear glitchmice scurrying in the wreckage.

Suddenly, there was a sound like the crack of a whip and a flash of violet light. Skyfire spun around.

“Oh,” said Skywarp flatly. “You.”


	4. Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyfire makes some new friends. Shockwave is unimpressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your incredibly thoughtful comments! I am new to AO3, so this was a great surprise!
> 
> For the purposes of this fic, Red Alert and Firestar are both bonded to Inferno, but they are not bonded to each other. This will be expanded on a little bit later.
> 
> Also Laserbeak and Ravage are both ladies because I do what I waaaaaaaaant.

“You murdering power-mad little glitch!” shrieked Firestar. 

Red Alert jumped back in surprise, nearly falling out of his chair. The last thing he’d expected to see on the vidscreen when he’d casually accepted the transmission from Cybertron was a livid femme. Her optics were ice-white with fury, and her vocalizer warbled and cracked from strain. 

“F-F-Firest—?” he managed to stammer.

“Don’t you give me that! I know what you did!”

Red Alert desperately tried to remember everything he’d done that solar cycle. It was hard, with his processors in a panic. Even though Firestar was lightyears away, his sensors were still registering her as an immediate threat.

“I, I don’t know what you’re—” he tried to pull himself together, but now the femme was screaming insults and refusing to let him get a word in edgewise. Red Alert finally resigned himself to the fact that nothing made any sense and sank down in his chair with his arms covering his audials. 

Then, blessedly:

“What’s going on? Red? Firestar?”

“And you!” screamed Firestar. “You’re as guilty as him!”

Luckily, Inferno was not as easily intimidated as Red Alert. “Now, calm down, Firestar, an’ tell me what happened.”

“Fine,” hissed Firestar. “Your little glitchmouse participated in the murder of a pair of sparklings less than a solar cycle ago.”

“’scuse me?”

“You have Soundwave in your brig, do you not?”

“Well, yes, I s’pose we do.” Inferno glanced at Red Alert, who was now staring dead ahead, his servos clenched, dangerous blue sparks dancing around his sensors. “Red, wha—?”

“He knows what I’m talking about!” yelled Firestar. “Tell him, Red Alert! Tell him how Prowl cut that cassette into pieces and crushed his spark in front of his creator!”

“What?” cried Inferno. 

“Tell him how the other one died a few cycles later! Unless he wants to say he wasn’t watching the whole thing as it happened.”

Inferno turned to look at Red Alert. He was shaking.

“Red?” asked Inferno. “Is she tellin’ the truth?”

Red Alert jumped up from his chair and ran out of the security center. Confused mechs were beginning to fill the hallway. Someone stopped him. Powerglide.

“Oh, good. I was just on my way to see you. I got a call from Moonracer and she says—”

Red Alert shoved past him and continued running. He almost wanted to disable his audials so he couldn’t hear the gossiping. It was already in full swing. Cybertronians loved to gossip just as much as humans did.

“—Hot Rod says Arcee said—”

“—you know femmes and their guardian protocols.”

“I think Ratch knows what happened, ’cause he won’t talk about it.”

“I say good for Prowl. Little slaggers deserved—”

“Yeah, but we’re not supposed to—”

“Who cares about ‘supposed to’! This is a fragging war!”

“Has anyone seen Blaster?”

“I went to ask Prime and he wouldn’t come out of his office but you could hear Elita screaming over the—”

“It has to be a mistake. Prowl would never—”

“I’m defecting if it’s true. That’s all there is to it.”

“Well, I’m buyin’ Prowl a cube of high-grade if it’s true, so—”

Red Alert finally found an empty conference room and sealed himself inside using every security code he had. Once he was safely hidden underneath the table and relatively calm again, he opened a comm line to the command staff.

“We have a problem,” he rasped.

* * *

“What do you want?” demanded Skywarp.

Skyfire was more than a little surprised by the seeker’s hostility. His wings were hiked up as far as they could go, and his servos were clenched. 

“Starscream told me to come here,” he said, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.

“Yeah? Well now I’m telling you to leave.”

“Please, I want to help.”

Skywarp laughed, nastily, and crossed his arms. “Help? All you’ve ever done is made things worse.”

“I’m sorry…”

“You’re sorry!” Skywarp shook his helm. “No. You know what? I got nothing to say to you. Frag off.” He began to walk away. It appeared that the seeker didn’t have enough energy left to teleport again.

“What am I supposed to do?” Skyfire cried.

“I don’t care,” said Skywarp without turning around.

“I can’t just leave!”

“Sure you can. You did it twice already.” Skywarp turned back to glare at him again. “And if I let you in, you’d do it again.”

Skyfire hesitated, “I—”

“You’ll leave. Don’t fragging deny it! Once it’s all over you’ll fly back to your little friends and it’ll be me and TC sitting up with him all night, as usual—”

“Do you think I want that?”

“Mech, I don’t know how your processor works.”

“Please.” And something in Skyfire’s tone seemed to soften the seeker. “Please. Just let me help. I have news from the prisoners that Shockwave will want. And, and I can synthesize energon—”

That got Skywarp’s attention. He walked back to Skyfire and seemed to examine him. He was still glaring, but Skyfire could tell he was about to relent.

“I’ll take you to Shockwave. He might let you stay, but don’t count on it.”

“Thank you—”

“I’m not done,” snapped Skywarp. “You hurt him again and I’ll rip your wings off, you hear me?”

“I understand.”

“Good.” Skywarp looked satisfied. “Now follow me.”

Skywarp led him down below the surface, into Old Kaon, the city as it had been before it was built over during the Golden Age. There was no light here, but Skywarp seemed to know where he was going. With only the glow of Skywarp’s optics and his own sensors as a guide, they went down ancient, disused roads and eventually made their way to what scanners suggested were a series of dilapidated buildings. Skyfire sensed Skywarp going over to a wall and activating an optical scanner. Then came the sound of a door sliding open.

“This way,” said Skywarp. Skyfire followed him into the building, stooping low to avoid the ceiling. It was still dark, but his sensors told him they were in a very small room. Skywarp was doing something over by the wall, but he could not tell what. 

Then another door opened—a lift, glowing with the dimmest light. “Come on,” muttered Skywarp, still in his bad mood. 

The lift took them down a few levels before the door opened again. Now they were in a much better-lit hallway. Someone came out to meet them immediately—another seeker, this one with an unusual green paintjob. A rainmaker. When he saw Skyfire, his optics widened a bit.

“I knew we were desperate, but Primus,” said the seeker. 

“Don’t start, Acid Storm,” grumbled Skywarp.

“You’re still bein’ a glitch, huh?” another Rainmaker, this one blue, came out into the hallway from the same room as the first. “Hey. You brought back an Autobot, moron.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Skyfire, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to be polite. The two rainmakers exchanged knowing smirks, and he knew they were talking about him over their comms. His suspicions were confirmed when the third rainmaker, the yellow one, came out to gawk at him as well.

“You told Shockwave about this?” he asked.

“I was on my way before you fraggers decided to block the hall,” said Skywarp.

Skyfire looked around. The base seemed to be a maze of hallways, very dimly lit to save on energy. Some of the floor panels were broken. And…Skyfire leaned in for a closer look. Somehow, part of the wall had been melted out of shape and even burned, as if someone had taken a blowtorch to it. That was highly unusual. 

Leaving the gossiping rainmakers behind, Skyfire continued to follow Skywarp down the main hallway until they reached what looked like a makeshift central control room. Shockwave was hunched over a screen, desperately working at something.

“’m back,” said Skywarp. 

Shockwave turned his helm to look at them. Then he straightened up. “Skywarp! Why have you brought this traitor inside my base?”

Skywarp shrugged.

“Did it occur to you that he is now able to report our exact location back to the Autobots? Of course it didn’t. Simpleton! I may as well throw you in the brig, you’d be of more use there!”

Skyfire decided to step in. He raised a hand in greeting. “Hello, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” Even with no real face, Shockwave managed to radiate disapproval. “Did you come alone?”

“Yes. And—”

“Autobot, I have two very distraught cassettes running around my base in a panic. I also have the single most idiotic seeker I have ever met—quite a feat, mind you—wandering about uselessly and refusing to do any work. If you have not brought me our leader, our communications officer, or even the remainder of the Command trine when you were previously in a position to do so, I see no use for you here.”

::Star?::

::What now?::

::Uh, it’s not going well.::

Irritation, but luckily not directed at him.

::You tell that one-eyed sycophant that while I may be imprisoned, I still outrank him. Also remind him that while he’s been sitting in a nice, dry command tower making sure Cybertron doesn’t get any deader, some of us have been fighting on the front lines on a regular basis and operating out of a base at the bottom of a fragging organic-infested ocean. You may also inform him that if he gives you a hard time, I will personally kick his aft to Quintessa and back.::

Sometimes Skyfire wondered why he even bothered asking his bondmate for help with anything.

“Do you know what’s happened on Earth?” asked Skyfire at last. “You don’t, do you? Your only link to them is the cassettes, and they’re in no state to tell. Am I right?”

Shockwave just stared. 

“Prowl just killed a cassette. Two cassettes, actually,” said Skyfire. “I’ve already informed the femmes, and we should be seeing the fallout very soon.”

More staring. No wonder Starscream complained about Shockwave so often. It was impossible to gauge his reaction to anything. 

“If I were to permit you to stay,” said Shockwave, very slowly, as if he could not believe the words were coming from his own vocalizer, “what would you have to offer the Decepticon cause?”

“I brought energon,” said Skyfire, “and I can synthesize more if you let me use your labs.”

Two breems later, he had been assigned his own sleeping quarters.

* * *

Skyfire hadn’t recharged in over a solar cycle, so now he rested on the unfamiliar berth and tried to calm his processors. He looked up at the battered ceiling and offlined his optics. Maybe he could pretend he was back on the Ark, and nothing completely insane had happened today.

Someone pinged him. Skyfire looked at the request. It had come all the way from Earth, from the Ark. It was tagged with Blaster’s signature. Skyfire opened a comm. 

[Blaster?]

[How’s it hangin’, mech? Enjoying Cybertron?] his casual tone was very much at odds with the heavily encrypted comm line.

Skyfire stifled a laugh, [I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m enjoying it, but…]

[You really made a mess here,] said Blaster. [And people are starting to ask me questions I’d rather not answer, if you get my drift. I’m thinkin’ it’s time for me to bounce.]

[I’m sorry?]

[I’m out, mech. I’m takin’ the bitlets and I’m leaving. Mine, and Soundwave’s asked me to take his, too. I can sneak ’em out easy. I’d take ’wave too, if I could. But I can’t. Mind if we all crash at your place for a while?]

Blaster was leaving the Autobots? That would be…devastating. The mech knew almost as many secrets as Red Alert, and Skyfire knew that Prime valued his services. He wondered how the Autobots would handle it.

He wondered how the universe could have shifted so dramatically in only a solar cycle.

[I’m sure Shockwave will be happy to have you,] said Skyfire. [I’ll send you the coordinates.]

[Good to hear. I’ll see you in a bit.]

The comm line closed. Skyfire decided it was time to stop worrying about what other mechs were doing and get some recharge. But before he could initiate the cycle, a strange, repetitive noise came from the opposite side of his door.

Skyfire lay there for a few klicks. Was someone…kicking his door? The noise didn’t falter, so he forced himself to get up and check. He opened the door and saw…nothing. Then he looked down.

A black cybercat was standing by his pedes, looking up at him with expectant golden optics. She stretched, wound her way around Skyfire’s legs, and dashed up onto the berth.

“Hey! What are you—?”

Something tiny darted past his faceplates. Skyfire turned around in time to see Laserbeak perch herself on Skyfire’s desk. Meanwhile, Ravage nosed through the supplies he’d unpacked from his subspace.

“Alright, fine,” said Skyfire, too tired to argue. He got back onto his berth and initiated his recharge sequence at last.

After a little while, Ravage came and curled up beside him.


	5. Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter, but there will be for the next.

An emergency meeting had been called. Prime sat at the head of the table and tried to extrude calm. On his right, Ironhide was tapping the tabletop with his digits impatiently. It was clear that he felt the prudent course of action was to start blasting people until the problem went away. To his left sat Prowl and Jazz, and at the end of the table Red Alert was having a nervous breakdown while Ratchet conducted a medical examination to make sure he hadn’t fried any of his circuits.

“I want to know how this happened,” said Prime. “Who is responsible for the information being leaked to the femmes?”

“Blaster’s the only one, aside from us, who even set foot in the brig,” said Jazz. “And I don’t think he’d tell. Caring for the cassettes is too important to him.”

“I’ve reviewed all my security tapes. There has been nobody in the brig who wasn’t supposed to be there, not at any point.” Red Alert looked enraged. “And the Decepticons couldn’t have told anyone. Their comm systems were removed. Not deactivated, removed.”

“What about the other cassettes? As I recall, we’re still missing the kittycat and Laserbeak,” said Jazz. “You think they don’t know what happened?”

“I’m sure they do,” said Prime. “But the cassettes cannot easily communicate with one who is not their host-carrier. I’m not saying they weren’t the ones to tell the femmes. Just that it’s unlikely.”

“What about the other ’cons?” asked Jazz. “Who says they don’t got bonded still running free?”

“Ridiculous,” said Red Alert. “Decepticons do not bond.”

“Who’ve we got in the brig? Soundwave’s out, cause split-sparks can’t bond,” said Jazz, completely ignoring Red Alert. “Megs? Seems unlikely. Screamer? Also unlikely. It’s just too much of a weak spot. But what about that other seeker we’ve got keeping him company? He’s awful fond of the teleporting menace, isn’t he? The one that got away?”

Everyone went quiet.

“Frag,” said Ironhide at last.

“I second that motion,” said Prime wearily. “Ratchet? You’ve been pretty quiet.”

Ratchet gave a little start. “Sorry?”

Prime gave him a questioning look, “Do you have any suggestions to offer?”

“No,” said Ratchet curtly, and resumed his work on Red Alert.

“I have been thinking,” said Prowl faintly. “Jazz, while your hypothesis regarding Thundercracker and Skywarp has merit, there is a rather obvious avenue that we never considered to explore.”

“How d’you mean?” asked Jazz.

“I believe we have been approaching this issue from the wrong direction.” Prowl’s optics flickered. “The question is not, ‘who told the femmes’. The question is, ‘who told Blaster’?”

Prime sat back in his seat, one hand raised to his helm. “Optimus to Blaster. Report.” A pause. “Optimus to Blaster. Please respond.” A longer pause. “Blaster, do you copy?”

“Teletraan I, locate Autobot Blaster,” said Red Alert.

_“Autobot Blaster is not on the Ark.”_

“Oh Primus,” Jazz rested his helm in one hand. “Two cubes of energon says he took Ratbat and Buzzsaw with him.”

“What the frag is going on here?” Ironhide shouted.

“I need to get back to the security center. I need to review the tapes!” Red Alert jumped to his pedes. “He could have tampered with my footage! I want this ship in lockdown!”

“I will accompany you,” said Prowl. “Jazz, see to the brig—”

“Wait,” said Prime. He was still sitting. “Wait just one moment. Everyone. Please.”

The frantic movement came to an instant halt.

“Teletraan I. Please list all Autobots whose locations are not currently known.”

_“Autobots with unknown locations: Blaster. Eject. Rewind. Ramhorn. Steeljaw. Skyfire.”_

“And there’s our answer,” murmured Prime.

“Sorry, we’re talking about the shuttle guy, right?” asked Jazz. “What does he have to do with this?”

“I’m not sure,” admitted Prime. “But if he’s missing, that makes him our top suspect.”

Ratchet finished his scans and began to subspace his tools. “If that’s all, I need to get back to medbay,” he said. “I left First Aid looking after Brawn.”

Prime watched him go. Ratchet never saw the flicker of suspicion in his optics, but the others did.

* * *

The next cycle, Skyfire went down to the labs. The green rainmaker, Acid Storm, was already there, working at a ridiculously inefficient energon synthesizer.

“If you can make this thing work,” grumbled Acid Storm, shoving the whole mess over to Skyfire, “I won’t let Skywarp reverse your pedes while you’re recharging like he’s planning to.”

“I appreciate the warning,” said Skyfire, examining the device. Part of the problem was that it appeared to be many vorns old, and synthesizers weren’t meant to last more than a vorn. His automatic reaction was to throw the thing away. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t living in the Golden Age anymore.

Skyfire began to look around to see what supplies the Decepticons even had. It wasn’t much at all. He supposed he could begin to build a new synthesizer and then use the old one whenever he needed new parts.

The search kept him occupied for a while, and Skyfire was only brought back to reality by the sound of the lab door sliding open again. Acid Storm was still working, so Skyfire turned to see who had just come in.

There was a seeker in the doorway.

“Star?” Skyfire said, but no, it wasn’t Star, couldn’t be, Star was on earth and anyway, this seeker was gold, with golden optics.

Grounders couldn’t tell one seeker from the other without looking at their coloration. They never seemed to notice the variations in faceplates, in optics, even in hands and wings and just movement. But Skyfire was not a grounder, and he could claim with completely certainty that this mech was Starscream, head to pedes, paint job nonwithstanding.

The golden seeker stared up at Skyfire in shock. A flare of scorching heat seemed to engulf him for a moment, and Skyfire felt his deep-space radiation shields kick online. Then as quickly as the sensation had come, it was gone.

Before Skyfire could say a word, the gold seeker spun around on his thrusters and ran out of the lab.

“Don’t take it personal,” said Acid Storm as Skyfire gaped. “He’s like that with just about everyone.”

“Who…who was that?” asked Skyfire, ripping his optics away from the empty doorway.

“Sunstorm,” said Acid Storm. “He likes to hang around the labs sometimes. He’s sort of shy, though. Like I said, don’t take it personal. Once he warms up to you, you won’t be able to get him to shut up.”

“He looks like Starscream.”

“Yeah. Shockwave used Screamer’s CNA to make Sunstorm. Don’t ask me why.”

That was…ridiculously alarming. Starscream had never mentioned a clone. Skyfire reached out across the bond, but received only faint energy waves—Starscream was in recharge.

“What is the cause of his unusual energy field?” asked Skyfire. Suddenly the burns he’d seen on the walls made a lot more sense.

“He’s got a solar-powered fusion reactor where his spark should be,” said Acid Storm. “Shockwave can give you more details. It’s…complicated. Short version, he’s radioactive. He can damp it down, usually, but every so often he has to go out and burn it off.”

Skyfire’s processor was already spinning from this new information. “You could—you could use him to power something huge. Why is he just wandering around scorching the paint off the walls?”

“What part of ‘radioactive’ do you not understand?”

“I’m not talking about making energon cubes,” Skyfire’s expression clouded. “Back in the Golden Age, we had giant planetary guardians—Omega Sentinels. Do you remember them?”

“Faintly,” said Acid Storm. He sounded bored.

“They were practically the size of cityformers! They’d have been the first to be deactivated once the energy crisis began. They must have required hundreds, maybe a thousand cubes to function.”

“Are you done?” drawled Acid Storm.

“They’d have been the first to be deactivated when the energy crisis began, then,” he mused. “The Council must have stored them below the surface. Do you know how to get down there from here?”

“What? Nobody’s allowed off-base, especially you.”

That was a surprise. “What is Shockwave planning to do, then, sit here forever?”

“He’s been known to do it,” said Acid Storm stoically.

“I was told to come here to help,” said Skyfire. Acid Storm laughed.

“Starscream lied to you. Big surprise. You’re friends with him, aren’t you? Figure you’d be used to it by now.”

“Are you telling me that Shockwave isn’t planning a rescue mission of any kind?” demanded Skyfire.

“A gunformer that can’t shoot for slag, one trine of chemists, three mechs that turn into one camera, two cassettes without a host, one-third of the Command trine, and an incredibly indecisive civilian shuttle versus the entire Autobot army,” retorted Acid Storm. “How do you think that would go?”

Skyfire turned away and put his servos on his helm. “I cannot believe this,” he muttered.

“You don’t have to believe it, but you do have to deal with it,” said Acid Storm, pushing Skyfire back towards the synthesizer. “Come on. You don’t work, you don’t refuel, that’s the rule around here.”

Skyfire went back to work, but his spark wasn’t in it anymore.

* * *

Red Alert stared at the medical records, his expression unfathomable. Skyfire’s records told him nothing he didn’t already know. There was more information, but it could only be accessed by a medic. Ratchet was being stubborn on this point. No matter how Red Alert begged, bribed, or threatened, Ratchet would not be swayed.

“How would you like it if I let someone look at your confidential records, Red Alert?” Ratchet had asked. It had been a low blow. Red Alert’s medical records went on for several pages due to the unusual nature of his glitch.

But that was different. Red Alert wasn’t a suspected traitor to the cause. Skyfire was.

Besides, he realized, he didn’t need Ratchet’s cooperation. There was another very simple way to get the information he wanted. Prime wouldn’t like it, but someone had to make the hard decisions around here. Prowl had understood that, even if Inferno and Firestar didn’t.


	6. Retaliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it really for the good of the Autobot cause? Or is it just spite?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! This chapter contains an interrogation scene. There’s no non-con or anything of that nature, but it is still quite serious and I am pretty sure Red Alert and Sunstreaker violate the Autobot code. If you think you can’t stomach it, I suggest you stop reading when Red Alert leaves the scene and pick up again with the next chapter.

Sunstreaker stormed into the brig, malice in his optics. He stomped past Soundwave, (who appeared to be unconscious) past Megatron, (who’d apparently retreated to his own personal universe again) and stopped in front of the seekers’ cell.

“Can I help you?” Starscream smirked.

“What the frag did you do?” asked Thundercracker, incredulous.

“I did nothing,” said Starscream in a tone that convinced absolutely nobody. “I have been in this cell with you since we arrived, have I not?”

“You, get back against the wall,” Sunstreaker ordered Thundercracker, unsubspacing a blaster. “I’m going to deactivate the bars. Don’t try anything funny, or I’ll blast your spark out.”

Starscream glanced past the warrior and saw that Red Alert was standing just inside the doorway, holding some tools that looked like they’d been stolen from a medbay.

“What did you _do_?” asked Thundercracker again.

Sunstreaker deactivated the bars, and Starscream stepped forward slowly. Once he was out, the bars activated again. Sunstreaker grabbed his wing and began to drag him towards the interrogation table—the same one Rumble had died on.

 _Don’t think about it. Whatever they do, you’ve been through worse._ Starscream felt his mind begin to pull away from his body—his only defense against whatever happened next.

Sunstreaker wrestled Starscream's servos and pedes into the restraints without much trouble. Starscream had been through this before, often enough to know that fighting back never helped.

“Open your chestplates,” ordered Sunstreaker.

"I...excuse me?"

Sunstreaker leaned forward meanacingly. "I said, _open your chestplates_."

Starscream fluttered his wings a little. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but you’re going to at least have to buy me a cube of high-grade first.”

Sunstreaker did not appreciate the joke, and for a moment Starscream thought he was about to punch him in the faceplates. But he didn’t. Instead, Red Alert stepped forward and began to sort through his tools.

“Shouldn’t you be out murdering sparklings or something?” asked Starscream.

Red Alert ignored him and withdrew a medical connector. One end was connected to a tiny datascreen that showed lines of code. Red Alert plugged the other end into the medical access port on the side of Starscream’s neck. A wave of code that he could not override popped up in his HUD and a moment later, Starscream's spark chamber slid open.

Red Alert reached in with careful hands and withdrew the spark partway, enough to study it. Starscream offlined his optics because he knew what Red Alert—and everyone else in the room—would see. Two ice-white ribbons of light circled the cerulean orb of his spark like the rings of a planet, the physical evidence of a bond.

"I thought so," murmured Red Alert.

Starsceam could feel the look Megatron was giving him just as surely as he could feel Skyfire’s confusion. He sent back a little pulse of casual reassurance. Skyfire was unconvinced. He ignored it.

After a moment that went on for far, far too long, Red Alert replaced Starscream's spark and allowed the plating to slide shut again.

“Who’re you bonded to?” demanded Sunstreaker.

“I don’t believe that is any of your business,” said Starscream.

Sunstreaker struck him across the faceplates. “It’s that fragging shuttle, isn’t it?”

“Yes. You caught me. I am bonded to Astrotrain.”

“Where is he?”

“I imagine he’s in the stockades on Cybertron, along with the rest of my troops.”

Sunstreaker slammed a fist down a few inches from Starscream’s helm. The seeker didn’t even flinch. “Where’s Skyfire?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about your bondmate, glitch. The one you left to die in the snow…twice.”

That got a reaction. Starscream’s optics flared with anger. “Frag you!”

“So you do remember.” Sunstreaker laughed. “I suppose you make a good pair. Both traitors. Don’t know what you saw in him, though. Or was he just the only one who could stand the sound of your fragging voice?”

“I have the information I came for,” said Red Alert. “Sunstreaker, I take my leave of you. You may proceed with your interrogation.”

_They weren’t finished?_

That question was answered by Sunstreaker, who unsubspaced an electroblade. Starscream felt fear blossom in his spark and, in his desperation, he reached out for Skyfire. His bondmate acknowledged him warmly, but Starscream had no time for that.

::Close the bond,:: ordered Starscream.

::What?::

::Close the bond.:: Starscream tried to block off his own end, but it was difficult when he was so distracted. And his spark didn't _want_ to give up the connection again. It was familiar. It was comforting.

::Why?:: cried Skyfire.

::I don’t want you to feel this. Close the bond.::

::No! I’m not leaving you!::

::You have to!::

::Why? What are they—?::

Sunstreaker ripped across Starscream’s wings with the blade. Lightyears away, Skyfire dropped his tools and cried out in pain.

::Close the bond, idiot!:: Starscream yelled again.

::No! I won’t leave you to this!::

Sunstreaker drove the blade through the brand on one of Starscream’s wings, pinning it to the table. Bright pink fluid seeped across the surface.

Skyfire was sending feelings of love and comfort across the bond. Starscream managed a little flicker of gratitude in response.

“I suppose that’s enough,” said Sunstreaker, running a servo over the other wing. “As fun as this is, I do want to keep these in good enough condition to hang on my wall.”

Sunstreaker unsubspaced up a smaller, thinner blade, leaving the first one embedded in Starscream’s wing.

::Ignore him,:: advised Skyfire as he felt Starscream’s rage flare up. ::He’s trying to get a reaction from you. Don't give him what he wants.::

::I’ll break his fragging neck!::

::Shh. He doesn’t matter.::

“Nothing to say?” asked Sunstreaker. “Now, that’s not like you.” He released his prisoner’s wing and began tracing the curve of his face instead. “You already know what I want, so I’m not going to waste time with questions. If you want me to stop, all you have to do is tell me where he is. Otherwise,” the blade was pressed to his faceplates, “he’ll never kiss you again.”

::Skyfire…::

::I’m here.::

Sunstreaker suddenly looked inspired. “I wonder…can your shuttle hear me? Yes, I’m sure he can. Excellent.” Sunstreaker grabbed one of Starscream’s heels and held it in a thoughtful hand. “I want him to feel it when I cut the thrusters out of your pedes.”

_::Skyfire!::_

::I’m here. I’m not leaving.:: Strong, steady pulses of love and reassurance washed over the bond. Sunstreaker dug the blade into Starscream’s pede and slowly, slowly, began to cut.

::Do you remember Iacon, my love?:: asked Skyfire, clearly desperate to distract him. ::When we’d go to the corner shop after classes? Remember the sweet, cold energon the owner made on the hottest days, when you could see the heat rising up from the streets? And we’d walk to the gardens and see how long we could make it last before it melted and went all flat…::

::Keep talking. Please.::

There was unashamed delight on Sunstreaker’s face.

::Do you remember the public gardens, and all those winding paths? There were those funny green crystals that grew near the center, the ones with the odd, sour taste. We never found out what they were called, did we?::

Sunstreaker was laughing to himself. Sensors cracked and sparked, and the burning pain was now too much to bear.

::And there was that tiny little lab they gave us when we first graduated. There was barely room for the two of us in it, but we didn’t care because it was ours and we were finally real scientists and we were going to change everything…::

Sunstreaker yanked, and the entire thruster came free in his servo. The seeker’s audial-splitting screech did not seem to interest him as much as the energon-stained thruster. It took Sunstreaker a moment to grow bored of his new toy. Then he dropped it on the ground and turned his attention back to his prisoner.

::The days when we had nothing to do, and we could just lie together and I could hold you…when I was yours and you were mine. We lived in each other’s processers as much as we did in our own, and there was nothing in the universe that could harm us.::

“Crying?” Sunstreaker touched a servo to Starscream’s face, where optical fluid was beginning to leak down. “How pathetic. No wonder he left you.”

::I will never leave you.::

“You’re sick,” Starscream hissed.

“And you’re prettier with your vocalizer muted.” Sunstreaker slapped him across the mouth. “That is, unless you’re ready to talk?”

“Go frag yourself.”

“That’s alright. You still have another pede.”

_::Skyfire!::_

::I’m here. I’m here. Focus on me. I love you, I always will.::

::Don’t let me go!::

::I’m right here. Focus on me. Forget about him. I’m right here. I’ll never leave you again.::

_Pain, blinding. Beyond words, beyond understanding._

::Can you feel me? I’m here. I’ll always be here.::

_Sharpness biting through dense networks of wires and sensors—_

::I’m here.::

Starscream’s vision went black.

::I’m right here.::


	7. Sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sunstorm renders Skyfire speechless like five times in two breems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to whip up some minor OC’s because Shockwave needed medics. They’re girls because girls. I hope you don’t mind; they won't be playing any major role here.

“Are you dead or what?” 

That was Skywarp’s voice, wasn’t it? Skyfire forced his optics online. He was in a medbay, lying on a berth. Skywarp was standing over him, looking unimpressed.

“What happened?” Skyfire muttered.

“You collapsed. We thought you were dying. Anodyne hauled your aft all the way here. It was actually pretty amazing.”

Skyfire rebooted his audials. And his optics. And his motor relays. “Who?”

“Anodyne. She’s one of the medics.” Skywarp glanced off at nothing. “Anyway. You gonna die on us or what?”

“I’m a bit better now,” said Skyfire when he trusted himself to speak. “Thank you for asking.”

“Whatever.” He could tell Skywarp was trying hard not to show his concern. “What’s the glitch done to himself now?”

“Interrogation,” said Skyfire. He felt across the bond. It echoed with pain, but he could tell that Star was still blessedly unconscious. 

“I had to tell the medics about the bond,” said Skywarp. “Sorry. I know you probably wanted to keep it secret, but…well, it's not a secret anymore. At all.”

“It’s fine.” Skyfire tried to stand, only to go crashing to his knees at the sudden, shooting pain in his pedes. 

“Frag it,” he swore. Skywarp looked slightly alarmed. 

“Hey. What the slag did they do? Did they mess with his thrusters?”

“You could say that,” ground out Skyfire, trying to figure out if he could walk balanced on the tips of his pedes long enough to get into a chair. “It should subside in a few klicks. I went further into the bond than I have in…quite a while. I am not used to the aftereffects.”

“You went into the bond when they were hurting him?” There was something new in Skywarp’s face. “Why?”

“Why?” Skyfire looked at him. “Skywarp, just because I wouldn’t join his faction doesn’t mean I don’t care about him.”

Skywarp didn’t say anything. He just knelt down beside Skyfire and slung one of the shuttle’s arms over his shoulder to help him back up. Skyfire had just managed to get back into a vaguely-standing position when the medic walked in.

“What,” she said in a voice that promised pain, “are you doing out of your berth?”

She wasn’t large, as most femmes weren’t. Skyfire supposed her altmode was some kind of small cybertronian jet, and she had a dark turquoise paintjob. Green was the traditional color for a Cybertronian medic. Ratchet had himself painted red and white for the convenience of the humans, but the Decepticons had no reason to do the same.

“Well, I—” began Skyfire.

“Berth. Now,” she said, crimson optics blazing. “My name is Panacea, and I am the assistant to Countermeasure, the head medic here. You have not been cleared to leave yet.”

Skyfire sat back down on the berth. Panacea seemed to relax a little. 

“Good,” she said. “Now stay there. I need to report to Shockwave. In the meantime, you have a visitor. Would you like to see him, or should I tell him to frag off?”

“Uh…” Skyfire tried to think of who on Cybertron would want to visit him and came up blank. “You can send him in.”

The medic nodded and left. Skywarp hesitated for a klick, then vanished with a soft pop. A moment later, a bright red Autobot poked his helm around the doorway.

“Is this the right room?” he asked.

“Blaster!” said Skyfire. “When did you get here?”

“Right after you collapsed, apparently,” said Blaster. “Did I mention you made a mess of the Ark? Because you made a mess of the Ark.”

“I, uh, had a feeling,” said Skyfire. “How are the cassettes?”

“Mine? They’re great. Soundwave’s? Not as good, but better now that they’re all together.” Blaster touched a servo to his chest compartment. “Got Ratbat in here, rechargin’. The others are running around making trouble.”

Skyfire didn’t try to hide his smile. “They’re getting along?”

“Yeah. Ravage had to kick Steelie’s aft for him, but otherwise it’s been fine. They miss Soundwave, though. Keep asking me when we’re gonna rescue him. I don’t know what the frag to tell them.” 

“I’m coming up with a plan,” promised Skyfire. “Tell them it won’t be long.”

“They’ll be happy to hear that,” said Blaster. “You know…”

“What?”

“I dunno. It’s weird, isn’t it? I always hated Soundwave. Hated what he did, hated who he was. But now…” Blaster shrugged helplessly. “I dunno. The whole way here, I was thinking, trying to figure out how everything changed so fast.”

“I understand,” said Skyfire.

“Sparklings, am I right?” asked Blaster, and there was sadness in his optics. “They make everyone do crazy things.”

Skyfire was about to reply, but that was when he received the first faint pulse of awareness from the other side of the bond.

::Skyfire…::

::Star! You’re awake! Are you alright?::

::I…I don’t know.:: Starscream did not sound anything like himself. ::Skyfire…oh Primus…::

“You alright?” asked Blaster, frowning.

“Fine,” muttered Skyfire. “I’m sorry, Blaster…can we talk later?”

“Yeah. I understand.” Blaster began to back out of the room, just as Skyfire was hit by a wave of nausea. 

::Star?:: Skyfire slipped into the bond again. 

::I can’t fly anymore.:: The hollow despair in the words broke Skyfire’s spark. ::He may as well have taken my wings.::

::No, no…don’t say that. We can fix them. We can replace them. Shockwave has to have extra seeker parts.:: Skyfire swallowed. From what he could tell, everything from the knee joints down would need to be replaced. ::You’ll be alright, once you’re back with me.::

::With you…yes.:: Starscream sounded exhausted, even drowsy, and Skyfire wondered if he'd been drugged. ::You’ll take care of me. Like you always did.::

::Yes, that’s right.::

::Did I tell him anything? I don’t remember.::

::I don’t think so,:: said Skyfire.

::Good.:: He could tell Star was trying to pull himself together, unsuccessfully. ::And you…you wouldn’t close the bond.::

::I promised I wouldn’t leave you.::

::I remember.::

That was a surprise. Skyfire was expecting to be yelled at. ::Star…::

::I miss you.::

::I know. I miss you too. I’ll be there soon.::

But he could tell Starscream did not believe him.

* * *

It took Skyfire a while to find the elusive golden seeker. Acid Storm said that he sometimes stopped by the labs, but probably wouldn’t if Skyfire was about. Sunstorm avoided Skywarp, and outright ran from the other two Rainmakers—Hurricane and Voltage. When Skyfire asked them about this, they claimed the mech didn’t know how to take a joke.

Skyfire located him at last deep in the lower levels of the base, curled up in a nest of half-melted storage crates and reading a datapad. The golden seeker…Sunstorm…gave a little start when he realized he’d been found. He dropped the datapad he was reading and scooted back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” said Skyfire. He leaned down and picked up the datapad. “I just wanted to talk. My name is Skyfire. You’re Sunstorm, aren’t you?”

Sunstorm looked at Skyfire, obviously uncertain. Skyfire proffered the datapad. It was strange, seeing Starscream’s faceplates looking at him as if he was potentially dangerous. 

“I’m new here,” said Skyfire. “I’ve been doing some energon refining, but I’m also trying to think up a rescue plan for the prisoners on Earth.”

Gingerly, Sunstorm accepted the datapad back. 

“Well,” said Skyfire awkwardly. Sunstorm was certainly a change after the openly friendly Autobots and boisterous Decepticons. Even Shockwave liked to hear himself talk. “What do you do around here?”

“I am Primus’ chosen prophet and the herald of a new age,” said Sunstorm. 

“I…excuse me?”

“All the galaxy will feel the wrath of Primus when he returns. Follow him, and be saved! All others shall perish in flames! I have been sent to warn all of Cybertron.”

Skyfire floundered for a response and came up with nothing.

“Oh,” he said at last. “Uh. Alright. Interesting. I was wondering if you wanted to help me with a project…”

* * *

Sunstorm knew at least ten ways out of the base, though only two were large enough for Skyfire. It appeared that Sunstorm never went far, and he wouldn’t dream of leaving the safety of Shockwave and Acid Storm, but he got bored quickly. It appeared that nobody noticed or cared when he went wandering off.

“You’ve never seen combat, have you?” asked Skyfire as they walked along. It was dark in the lower levels, but Sunstorm was giving off a steady golden glow that lit the area fairly well. 

“I have seen combat,” said Sunstorm. “With my optics.”

“Right. But you didn’t participate.”

“No. I am above petty mortal squabbles. The war I fight is in the Well.”

“I’m not much of a fighter myself.”

“Shockwave says I am too easily distracted for the battlefield. Besides, he wishes to study my spark further, and he cannot do that if I am offline. It is the physical manifestation of the will of Primus.” 

“Acid Storm told me it’s a solar-powered fusion reactor.”

“Acid Storm is a heathen.”

Skyfire’s optics brightened in surprise. “I thought you liked Acid Storm?”

“Acid Storm…” Sunstorm appeared to consider it. “He will be among the last to be devoured.”

Skyfire honestly had no idea how to respond to that, so they walked along in silence for a while. Soon enough, the scenery began to change and Skyfire knew that they were getting close to the old storage areas.

“To Lord Primus, we draw ever nearer,” sighed Sunstorm, waxing poetic. “Listen, and hear his spark pulsing.”

“We’re nowhere near the core,” said Skyfire. “We’re not going that far. We’re just looking for the Sentinels, remember?”

“The ancient guardians of Primus’ children! They slumber now, but behold! A new age of light is at hand, heralded by myself, Primus’ chosen prophet. Did I give you a datapad?”

“A datapad about what?” They couldn’t be too far now. “Let me know if you pick up anything on your sensors, they should be right around here.”

In response, Sunstorm handed Skyfire a very scorched datapad. Skyfire glanced at it. The title was PRIMUS AND THE FINAL REVELATIONS.

“I…will cherish this,” said Skyfire, subspacing the datapad. Sunstorm positively beamed. Then he did something unexpected: he leaned his helm on Skyfire’s arm affectionately. 

“Sunstorm, I’m bonded.”

“So I have heard. But my brother never appreciates what has been given to him,” murmured Sunstorm, his oddly warm fingers running over Skyfire’s plating. “In his unending quest for power, he forgets what he already holds in his hands.”

“That’s not…completely true.”

Sunstorm shrugged and drifted away. Luckily, Skyfire was saved from having to think up a response because at that moment, he tripped over an Omega Guardian’s leg-strut.

* * *

Sunstorm perched on some wreckage and watched Skyfire work.

“Why do you rend in twain the armor of the ancient guardian?”

“Because,” Skyfire gasped, struggling to get the thick, heavy outer plating out of the way, “I need to see what’s inside.” He took a moment to rest, vents heaving. “That’s not going to be the Sentinel we use, I guarantee it. We’re going to burn through a few before we get it right. Luckily there’s about a dozen here.”

“And what part shall I play in the glorious awakening of the ancient guardians?”

“I need you as a power source.”

Sunstorm looked legitimately disappointed. “Alas, Primus does not mean for the gifts he has granted me to be used for worldly purposes. Shockwave tried. The entire factory melted. Everyone was so upset.”

“I’m not Shockwave,” said Skyfire. “This will probably be different than anything he’s ever had you do.” Skyfire gave Sunstorm a careful look. “If I tell you,” he said, “you must swear to never tell any other mech. Not Acid Storm, not Shockwave. Do you understand?”

“By our creator, I swear I shall not betray you, for you have shown me great compassion and are as lovely as the crystal gardens of Vos by moonlight.”

Skyfire replayed Sunstorm’s statement in his processor four times before he was certain he’d heard it correctly. Then he decided that he hadn’t heard it at all.

“What do you know about Earth?” he asked instead.

“I know that Primus has not favored it as he has Cybertron.”

“On Earth, the sentient life-forms are called humans. You might have seen some; they’ve come through the space bridge at least twice. They’re organic creatures, very fragile and very small. Fully grown, they’re about the size of a cassette in root mode.”

“Such simple creatures should cause us to reflect on our own insignificance when compared to Primus.”

“Right. Sure. Fine. The humans are technologically primitive, but occasionally they have an interesting idea. Many of the Autobots—and Decepticons, I believe—followed human entertainment. The Autobots would often view programs in our rec room. One day, some of the younger warriors watched a program about a human who could go inside a very large drone and control it with his own body.”

“That is a highly unnatural arrangement,” said Sunstorm uneasily. 

“I agree. But it is not completely implausible. With some work, I think I can alter a Sentinel enough for you to both power and pilot it from within.” Skyfire nodded to himself, already lost in calculations. “I believe the humans call it a gundam.”


	8. Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more mechs come to crash on Shockwave's couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update! D:
> 
> No warnings this time.

Skyfire was in the washracks, trying to scrub the last traces of the red insignia off his chestplates. Luckily, it was only painted on, not branded. Skyfire had never actually taken the Autobot oath, and the insignia had really been more for the convenience of the humans, who tended to panic when they saw a Cybertronian with wings.

[Autobot!] bellowed Shockwave over the public comm channel. Skyfire set the bottle of paint remover down carefully.

[Yes?] he asked.

[Get up here now!]

That sounded serious.

[Alright, stop yelling.] Skyfire reached over and turned off the spray of too-cold water. [I’m on my way.]

[Frag, mech, what did you do?] asked Acid Storm. [Usually only Screamer or Sunstorm can make him yell like that.]

[Temperance is a virtue in which I find Commander Shockwave to be sadly lacking,] said Sunstorm primly.

[Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re the only mech in the universe that feels that way, Sunshine,] said Skywarp.

[He’s right, Sunstorm,] said Acid Storm. [Shockwave’s not impatient. You’re just remarkably…]

[Fragging annoying,] suggested one of the other rainmakers, though Skyfire was not sure which.

[I was going to say, ‘filled with sparkling-like wonder,’] snapped Acid Storm.

Skyfire arrived at the control room about half a breem later. Shockwave was waiting for him just inside, emanating rage.

“Now, what is the issue?” asked Skyfire.

“That is the issue,” said Shockwave, pointing towards the corner of the room. Skyfire looked, and saw Perceptor was sitting in a chair quietly, tapping away at a datapad. And just behind him, looking over his shoulder, was Mirage.

Skyfire gaped. “Perce! What are you…how are you here?”

“I believe the question is why are you here?” drawled Shockwave.  
“Blaster sent us your coordinates.” Perceptor looked very pleased with himself as he subspaced his datapad. “The Ark is currently in a state of chaos, thanks to you.”

“But why did you leave?” asked Skyfire, looking from Perceptor to Mirage and back.

“I did not wish to become the latest victim of the hysteria,” said Perceptor. “Since I knew you, I was being regarded with some suspicion. Mirage had already been confined to quarters under guard but—”

“I go where I wish,” said Mirage dryly, folding his arms.

“Precisely,” said Perceptor. “And since my altmode is not efficient for travel, I needed a traveling companion.”

“What did you do that they arrested you?” Skyfire asked, turning to Mirage.

“I didn’t do anything,” said Mirage curtly. “I merely made my opinions known, as is my right. If I’d known it would result in my being treated like a criminal, I would have departed earlier.”

“That is all interesting,” snapped Shockwave, not at all disguising his impatience, “but it does not explain why you made the choice to come here.”

“I’m afraid he’s right,” admitted Skyfire. “You’d probably be better off staying with the femmes. I’m sure they have more energy as well.”

“Blaster told us that you had begun a new project,” said Perceptor. “I came to offer my help. Mirage was my ride.”

Skyfire felt his insides freeze up. He didn’t dare risk a glance at Shockwave.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but my only project is refining energon,” he said, after thinking it over for far too long. “If you’ve brought tools, though, I’d be glad for the help.”

“Honestly, Autobot,” said Shockwave in disgust. “You must work on your lying.”

“He’s really right,” said Mirage.

“Well, I tried,” sighed Skyfire.

“My apologies,” said Perceptor. “I did not realize it was a secret.”

“Neither did Blaster,” said Skyfire. “It’s not your fault. Well, come on, then. I’ll show you what I’ve been doing.”

* * *

“The humans have a term—‘witch hunt.’ I feel it is an apt description of what the situation has degenerated into,” chattered Perceptor as they walked down the dim hallways. “After Blaster’s disappearance, the command staff became quite desperate to weed out any other potential traitors.”

“Smokescreen and Beachcomber are also under house arrest,” contributed Mirage.

“You’re not serious.” Skyfire turned to look back at them. Shockwave was lagging behind, as if he did not want to be seen with the other three. “Beachcomber?”

“The Aerialbots were all being questioned separately when we departed,” said Perceptor. “There was a no-fly order issued just after Blaster vanished. They have been defying it constantly, as has Powerglide. I believe the real trouble began after Air Raid stated the Decepticons wouldn’t have grounded them.”

“Primus, Air Raid…” groaned Skyfire.

“They look up to you,” said Perceptor. “When you were announced missing, they came to me to ask if what they had been told was true.”

“What did you say to them?”

“I told them that you had done what you thought was right,” said Perceptor. “Unhindered by the burden of faction.”

Skyfire turned back to look at Shockwave. He was as unreadable as ever, though his posture suggested exasperation. But he wasn’t yelling, so Skyfire supposed he could wait.

“And what about you?” Skyfire asked Perceptor. “Were you questioned by the officers as well?”

“No,” said Perceptor. “My departure is more of a…call it a protest, I suppose. Ratchet is in the brig.”

“Taking care of Soundwave?” asked Skyfire.

“No, I mean he is literally in the brig. In the cell between Megatron and the seekers, if I am remembering correctly.”

Skyfire looked around for a chair to sit in, because the hall had suddenly started spinning.

“Red Alert had him arrested publicly for, ah, concealing information critical to an investigation and possibly obstructing justice,” said Perceptor. “In response—I didn’t see it for myself, mind you—but apparently Ratchet instructed him to perform an act which I am assured is anatomically impossible.”

“They can’t have arrested Ratchet,” said Skyfire. “He’s served Prime for, for…longer than I’ve been online!”

“If you want my opinion, it was a warning to the rest of us,” said Mirage. “If Ratchet wasn’t safe from suspicion, then nobody is.”

“Have they all gone insane?” asked Skyfire.

“Evidently yes,” said Perceptor. “Ah…it’s getting quite dark down here. Where exactly are we going?”

Skyfire led them to the half-dismantled Sentinel. It was actually quite difficult, without Sunstorm lighting the way, but Shockwave was able to reroute the power so that they were able to see Skyfire’s work.

Their reactions were about what Skyfire was expecting from them. Perceptor gasped in delighted shock and began clambering over the giant body like a sparkling on a playground, asking a thousand questions at once. Mirage was a bit more stoic, though he could not hide his interest.

“You’ll never get enough energon to power it,” said Mirage. “I don’t think even the Autobots have that much stored up.”

“It’s not going to run on energon,” said Skyfire. He looked over at Shockwave. “With your permission, that is. Sunstorm has already agreed.”

Shockwave’s optic brightened a little. “Is that what you two were doing down here?”

“You knew?” asked Skyfire.

“Of course I knew,” said Shockwave. Skyfire thought the mech might actually be offended at the implication that he didn’t know everything that happened in—and under—his own base. “I simply did not conclude that you’d started a project.”

“Well, then, what did you think—” Skyfire stopped himself. “Never mind. No.”

“Quite,” said Shockwave dryly.

* * *

That night, before recharge, Skyfire reached out across the bond yet again.

::Star?::

::Now what have you done?:: The response came quickly, easily. Skyfire could almost imagine they were back in school, before the war. Before the ice.

::Nothing,:: said Skyfire. ::I just wanted to see how you were doing.::

::Sentimental glitch.:: But there was deep affection in the words. ::I’m fine, as I’ve told you many, many times in the last three solar cycles.::

::How are your pedes?::

::Trying not to think about it,:: said Starscream, and Skyfire felt his spark twist in a strange mix of sympathy and outrage. ::They sent me a medic…not Ratchet, of course, Ratchet’s been—::

::I heard.::

::So they sent me the little one. The sparkling.::

::First Aid?::

::Whoever. There’s no chance of them reintegrating my thrusters. I think you were right, I’m going to need my legs replaced. But he stopped the bleeding and patched my wings.::

::I miss you,:: said Skyfire.

::Skyfire…:: To his surprise, guilt swelled across the bond. ::I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.::

::For what?:: asked Skyfire gently.

::For everything!:: cried Starscream. ::I—I know I’ve been horrible to you since the moment you woke up, I blamed you and it wasn’t fair, and I see myself acting crazy but I can’t stop!:: Sparkbreaking regret. ::I miss you too. Don’t ever think I haven’t been missing you.::

Skyfire transmitted a wave of affection and understanding. He received a shy little tendril of love in response.

::I love you, too,:: he replied. He felt his bondmate’s joy at the reassurance. It had been so long since he’d felt Star happy, and he savored it.

They stayed like that for a little while, in quiet contentment, until Skyfire spoke again.

::What do you think will happen afterwards?::

::What do you mean?:: asked Starscream sleepily.

::When we rescue you all. They…they all know about the bond. What will we do?::

::I don’t know. Megatron will probably let you stay, if you keep being useful. You’ll never get a brand, though.::

::I don’t want to stay, and I certainly don’t want a brand!:: cried Skyfire.

Starscream sent back a little spark of irritation. ::Well, I’m not leaving.::

Skyfire could not stifle his hurt. Nor did he bother to try.

::Skyfire, don’t!:: begged Starscream. ::Don’t do that, you’re—::

Skyfire let his betrayal and sorrow bleed across the connection. _Look at it,_ he wanted to scream. _This is your fault! You did this! Look at it!_

::You’re hurting me!:: cried Starscream.

Too late, Skyfire realized that now, with Star in such delicate physical condition, was probably not the right time for a confrontation. He pulled back instantly, horrified with himself.

::Star, I’m sorry, I—I didn’t realize—I didn’t mean to…::

::I know,:: said Starscream. ::You never do.::

::Tell me what you want from me,:: pleaded Skyfire.

::End the war,:: said Starscream, and that time Skyfire completely missed the sarcasm in his tone.

* * *

[Autobot!]

The comm ripped Skyfire from his recharge. Skyfire took a moment to reorient himself. Where was he? Why was everything purple? Why was there a cybercat on his chassis?

Cybertron. Right.

[I have a designation, you know,] said Skyfire. At least it wasn’t a public channel this time.

[Get up here now!]

“Again?” muttered Skyfire. He dragged himself to his pedes, making Ravage growl in displeasure. Once he was up, she jumped back onto the berth and curled up in the middle of it, tail twitching in irritation.

Still not completely conscious, Skyfire made his way to Shockwave’s control room. The purple mech was waiting there for him, along with Hurricane and Voltage, who were guarding…

Skyfire gave a little start. “…Powerglide?”

“This cannot be your center of operations.” Powerglide looked like he was trying hard not to touch anything. “Tell me this is simply a clever decoy and your actual base is somewhere else.”

“But…how did you get here?”

“Mirage gave me the coordinates,” said Powerglide vaguely, still looking around. “That’s not a problem, is it?”

Skyfire shook himself a little, trying to bring himself fully online. “No, no…I’m sure it’s fine,” said Skyfire.

Behind him, Shockwave gripped a writing stylus so hard that it cracked in two.


	9. Shatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Autobots think they've come up with a good idea. It's possible they're all on drugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings! Another scene similar to the last interrogation, featuring severe psychological torture. As always, no non-con.
> 
> I also want to thank all my commenters so far, (I keep meaning to do this but forget every damn time) especially Skywinder and Mother_Hitton. You guys keep making my day!

“Ready?” asked Skyfire.

“I am ready!” cried Sunstorm from his place among the many wires of the Sentinel’s half-dissected frame. The dark lower level had been converted into a brightly-lit workshop, powered by the energon that Perceptor had refined in exchange for being allowed to stay.

“Alright,” said Skyfire. “I want you to start out very slowly—”

Sunstorm was already beginning to glow with an ethereal light. For a moment, Skyfire could understand why the mech believed himself touched by Primus. But the thought lasted only two klicks, for that was how long it took for Sunstorm to lose control and melt the entire Sentinel into a heap of bubbling scrap.

“I had a feeling that would happen,” sighed Skyfire. Sunstorm peeled a melted sheet of metal from his plating, looking quite like a kicked turbopuppy. “Don’t worry, Sunstorm, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Wasn’t his fault the last two times either, was it?” muttered Hurricane. The Rainmakers had stopped by to watch the test run, and were treating it more like a spectator sport than a military operation. Skyfire was quite close to ordering them out. Luckily, the medics were very good at keeping them in line.

The three femmes guarded their medical supplies jealously, but they were also turning out to be wonderful help on the reconstruction of the Sentinel. Panacea and her superior, Countermeasure, were full of ideas. And Anodyne, the one who had reportedly hauled him to medbay when Skyfire collapsed, was the first to volunteer for any manual labor—which was more than the seekers could say.

All three had the iron willpower that Skyfire had long learned to associate with medics, though Skyfire had caught them whispering to each other more than once, worry etched on their faceplates. Apparently there had originally been six medics working for Shockwave, but the other three were MIA, and had been ever since the spacebridge was captured.

“I think I know what went wrong,” said Perceptor. “We’re not compensating enough for his energy output. We need to stop trying to protect the Sentinel’s internals and start finding a way for Sunstorm to safely burn off excess energy.”

“Some sort of outlet, you mean?” asked Skyfire.

“Yes. Don’t the Sentinels have weapons?” asked Perceptor.

Skyfire could not keep the surprise from his faceplates. “I’m sure it does.”

“Good. That will save us the trouble of building new ones.” Perceptor turned to the seekers. “Stop gawking and help us bring out the next Sentinel,” he ordered them. “We are not finished here.”

“Are you certain you wish to do this?” Skyfire asked Perceptor quietly, once Hurricane and Voltage were occupied. “We can find another way.”

Perceptor met his gaze evenly. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I’m doing this because my bondmate needs me,” said Skyfire. “But you…you’ve been nothing but loyal until now.”

Perceptor gave a small shrug. “I never had a reason not to be, until now. Perhaps Ratchet’s arrest has made me irrational. But I believe that the Ark’s command needs to be shown the error of their ways. If they wish to behave like tyrants, I will oppose them until a new command is appointed.”

“Mechs could die.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I built something that was used to kill.” Perceptor arched an optic ridge, “Could it be that you are trying to talk me out of this?”

“I don’t think so,” said Skyfire. “Or I…I don’t mean to. I’m sorry, Perce. I’m just having trouble with everything.”

Perceptor looked sympathetic. “Are you trying to talk _yourself_ out of this, perhaps?” he asked.

“I must be,” said Skyfire. “I can’t pretend I’ll be able to kick down the Ark’s door, rescue Starscream, and go flying off to Primus-knows-where without any repercussions. The war will continue, won’t it? It was almost over, for better or for worse. It might have ended, if I had just…”

“If you had just been paralyzed by indecision, you mean?” asked Perceptor. “After what you have seen, do you still believe the Autobots deserve victory?”

“I don’t think anyone deserves to win,” said Skyfire. “Assuming anyone can.”

“The alternative is extinction,” said Perceptor. “Though, with the amount of destruction we have wrought, perhaps that is exactly what is warranted.”

“What about peace?” asked Skyfire.

“I keep forgetting that you’re new,” said Perceptor, somewhat fondly. And Skyfire let the subject drop.

* * *

Skyfire included Perceptor’s suggestion to divert Sunstorm’s excess energy into a weapon in his report to Shockwave. If Shockwave was surprised by it, he said nothing.

“…should be completed within a few stellar cycles, assuming nothing goes wrong in the meantime,” said Skyfire. “The medics have been excellent help, and there hasn’t been much of an issue with getting enough—”

Shockwave’s entire frame suddenly tensed, and Skyfire could swear his optic widened.

“Shockwave?” asked Skyfire. “Are you…?”

“Silence,” ordered Shockwave, rising from his desk. A moment later, Skyfire heard it as well: sweet and bubbly laughter, echoing down the hallways.

“No,” said Shockwave, more to himself than to Skyfire. “No. This is where I draw the line.” He shoved past Skyfire—the mech could be alarmingly fast when he wanted—and hurried down the hall. He subspaced his report and hurried after the Decepticon.

When Shockwave came to a sudden halt, Skyfire almost crashed into him. Luckily, the entire base was built to a more convenient scale than the Ark had been, and Skyfire was able to stop himself in time.

“No! No! Absolutely not! This is my base, and I won’t have it overrun with Autobots!” Shockwave yelled.

“She’s not here to stay,” said Powerglide, raising his wings defensively. Something tiny and green peeked out from behind them. Moonracer.

“Yes, that’s right, I’m just delivering a message,” said Moonracer. “Shockwave, Elita-1 wants you to know that her forces have taken the space bridge.”

“Your forces took the space bridge solar cycles ago,” said Shockwave scathingly. “I witnessed it.”

“Took it from you, yeah,” said Moonracer. “Now we took it from the Autobots.”

Shockwave stared. “Are you telling me that the femmes have broken from the Autobot faction?”

“Not, like, formally,” said Moonracer. She glanced past Shockwave at Skyfire. Skyfire thought she might be angry at him—and rightfully so—but she smiled brightly. “Anyway, she wants to talk. Elita, I mean. Proper talks, with no shooting or stealing or things blowing up.”

At first, Skyfire thought Shockwave would refuse on principle. But he said nothing. He appeared to be thinking it over.

Would Elita be open to a cease-fire? wondered Skyfire. Surely she was tired of the fighting, the dying. Skyfire didn’t know much about her, except that she was bonded to Prime and had an incredibly intimidating air about her.

“Would it be possible if—” began Skyfire, but he never got to finish his request, because that was when Starscream began to shriek in terror.

* * *

Starscream hadn’t thought much of it when Ratchet was taken from the brig. The mech hadn’t been much for conversation, though Starscream had managed to coax a laugh from him by throwing loose pebbles through the bars at Megatron’s helm until Thundercracker made him stop.

Starscream knew that Ratchet had kept Skyfire’s secret. He’d been horrified at first, when Skyfire had admitted to him that Ratchet knew about the bond. But Autobot medics were not like Decepticon medics. Skyfire did not have to bribe him to keep him quiet. It was insane. It was…

…exactly what Starscream had come to expect from the medic over the past few thousand vorns, to be quite honest.

About two breems after Ratchet was released, Prowl and Jazz came for Starscream. This was a surprise, as Prowl had not set one pede in the brig since the night the twins died. But if Prowl felt anything about the way Soundwave recoiled from him, or the hate-filled stares he received from the others, he didn’t show it.

It turned out to be fortunate that two mechs had been sent to retrieve Starscream, because he still couldn’t walk properly. First Aid had done his best, but Starscream’s pedes were destroyed. They needed to be replaced, not repaired. But even if the Autobots had been inclined to do that, there was no way they had the required parts lying around.

It was a ponderously slow trip, made slower still by the fact that Starscream insisted on walking unaided. He had to balance on the tips of his pedes or risk collapsing from pain, and often grabbed onto Jazz’s arm to keep from tipping forward. Jazz, surprisingly, had no complaints about this. In fact, when he looked at Starscream, the seeker could have sworn Jazz’s visor hid pity.

Their destination turned out to be the medbay, where Ratchet and Red Alert were waiting. Ratchet looked surprised to see Starscream.

“I already told you, I’m not doing an interrogation,” said Ratchet harshly.

“Nobody is asking you to,” said Red Alert, and Starscream heard the medbay doors seal shut. “In exchange for your freedom, you will be performing a medical procedure. It’s rare, but well within your abilities—”

“I didn’t agree to anything,” snarled Ratchet. “You’re glitching, every last one of you.”

The insult was ignored, and Jazz began to guide Starscream to one of the medical berths. This time, Starscream resisted. He didn’t like this. Interrogations he could handle. He’d been through too many to count. But a medical procedure? What did that even mean?

Jazz gave the slightest frown when he realized his prisoner wasn’t cooperating. Prowl was at his side a moment later to help. Once Red Alert was satisfied that Starscream wasn’t going anywhere, he turned his attention back to Ratchet.

“You knew of his sparkbond,” said Red Alert. “And yet you said nothing.”

“Medical confidentiality,” said Ratchet, stoic. “I’d do the same for you.”

Starscream gave a small laugh through gritted dentae. The situations were hardly comparable; it was no secret that the security director was bonded to his bodyguard.

“Now, as a result,” said Red Alert, ignoring this, “We have lost at least four Autobots to the Decepticons, all of Soundwave’s cassettes, and the space bridge.”

“You cannot blame me for that,” said Ratchet.

“Perhaps not,” said Red Alert. He looked down at Starscream. “But we cannot risk further losses. You will break his sparkbond.”

Starscream felt the energon in his lines go cold.

_No. No. No!_

“Excuse me?” gasped Ratchet.

“You heard me. Break the bond. I know you can.” Red Alert crossed his arms.

Starscream looked up at Ratchet for any signs of mercy. He did not bother to hide the fear he knew was showing on his faceplates, though he tried to keep his fear from flooding the bond. Luckily, Skyfire seemed to be distracted.

“You really _are_ glitching,” said Ratchet. “Do you even understand what you’re asking me to do? It could kill him, cause his spark to destabilize—”

“Do I look like I care?”

“No, but Prime will.”

“And then he’ll admit it’s a good idea,” Prowl cut in. “With the bond intact, Starscream will keep on transmitting information to the free Decepticons. Breaking it will also lower his resistance to interrogation, and may allow us to find Shockwave and end this once and for all.”

The silence went on for far too long. Finally, Ratchet lifted his chin and looked at Red Alert. “No.”

“Fine,” said Red Alert, not really sounding surprised. “We can take it to Prime. Let him give the order.”

“I don’t care if Primus himself gives the order!” bellowed Ratchet. “I refuse to sink to the level of depravity that the rest of you have, do you understand me?”

“You’d defend this war criminal?”

“He’s not the only war criminal in this room, Red Alert,” said Ratchet in a low voice. Red Alert’s optics dimmed in fury.

“Very well,” he said at last. “You may return to your cell. I will simply have to find someone else to perform the procedure. I’m sure I will have no shortage of volunteers. Sunstreaker’s been asking for another chance, after all. I’m sure his enthusiasm will make up for his lack of expertise.”

Ratchet’s optics flared in horror. “You wouldn’t.”

“I might,” said Red Alert coolly. “As I said, it’s your choice.”

Ratchet looked like he might punch the smaller bot across the room, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked down at Starscream.

“I’m sorry,” said the medic. “I will…I will make it fast.”

 _::SKYFIRE!::_ he screamed, his resolve shattering. Skyfire was with him in an instant, abandoning whatever he’d been doing to comfort his bondmate.

::They’re going to break it! They’re going to break our bond!:: cried Starscream.

::They can’t. They wouldn’t. This has to be a trick,:: said Skyfire. ::They just wouldn’t. This…this can’t be real. They’re just trying to scare you.::

::Well, it’s working!::

Ratchet was still watching him. Those kind blue optics reminded him of Skyfire.

“Please,” whispered Starscream, soft enough for only the medic to hear. “He’s all I have.”

“I’m sorry,” said Ratchet again. “I truly am.”

“You’re supposed to be better than this.”

Ratchet did not reply. Instead, he turned away.

“You’re supposed to be better than this! That’s why he joined you! You’re supposed to be better!”

Ratchet came back with a tool in his hand—a device used to alter the frequency of spark-pulses. It was customarily used to stabilize the sparks of mechs in critical condition, but it could also be used to alter a mech’s spark signature to the point that a bond would snap.

“No, please, please…!” Starscream fought against the medical restraints, but they were even stronger than the ones in the brig had been. He turned his head to the side and for a moment, he could have sworn that he saw Red Alert smile.

“I’m sorry,” said the medic yet again, and he flicked the stabilizer on.

Immediately, pain shot through Starscream’s spark as it tried to make sense of the strange energy fluctuations it was receiving. It tried to compensate for the changes, but could not, not without completely losing its synchronization with Skyfire’s spark.

Ratchet tapped a command into the tool, and the energy fluxes sped up, the frequencies varying widely. Starscream tried to adjust as best he could without losing contact with Skyfire, but it became more difficult every klick.

::I’ve got you. Just, just try and hold on…:: Skyfire was clinging to him through the bond, trying desperately to keep his own signature matched to Starscream’s constantly changing frequency.

::I can’t do this for much longer,:: said Starscream. ::I…I don’t want to be alone again!::

::And I don’t want to leave you.::

A rapid-fire volley of different frequencies hit him. Exhausted, Starscream did not even try to adjust to them, and instead let them tear through his spark. He could feel Skyfire’s blind rage, but was oddly calm himself.

All his fear had suddenly, inexplicably burned away, leaving behind only serene acceptance.

::I’ll see you soon,:: swore Skyfire. ::We’re making the preparations now, and then we’ll be on our way. I love—::

The bond shattered like ice.


	10. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream and Skyfire recover...separately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings. More gooshy emotional stuff, pleh. But I promise next chapter comes all the stuff you've been waiting for.

Starscream came back to consciousness slowly. He saw an orange ceiling and realized he was in the medbay, on a berth. He tilted his helm to the side and saw he had been hooked into some machines that were now monitoring his vitals.

His spark felt odd. Instinctively, he reached out for Skyfire…

Later, they said that the scream could be heard from every room in the Ark.

Someone—First Aid—gave a little yelp and dropped the datapad he was reading. Ratchet rushed over, cursing. Starscream rolled off the berth, ripping out wires and ignoring the pain in his pedes for the sake of putting as much distance between himself and the medics as possible.

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s alright, calm down,” soothed First Aid. Starscream glanced around for a weapon, but all the medical tools were far too small to do any real damage and he hadn’t bludgeoned anyone with a datapad since the Academy. Fortunately, the berth was on wheels, and he slammed it into First Aid with all the force he could muster. The little bot was completely unprepared for the attack, and went crashing to the floor.

Ratchet was moving towards him cautiously, armed with a sedative in one hand and a scanner in the other.

“Get away from me!” shrilled Starscream.

“Alright,” said Ratchet. “I need to take a frequency reading, though.”

“Go to the Pit.” Starscream put both his servos over his sparkplating, trying to soothe the deep, persistent ache. He saw Ratchet move closer and scrambled back, hitting some cabinets with his wings, sending more pain shooting down them.

“Don’t you dare touch me!”

“Do you want your spark to destabilize? I need to take this reading,” said Ratchet.

“I don’t care! Get away from me!” But either the noise had drawn attention or Ratchet had commed for help, because now Sideswipe and Inferno hurried in with their weapons drawn and ready.

“Don’t shoot, not even to stun,” Ratchet warned them. “His spark’s in critical condition.”

One of Starscream’s servos found a metal tray of equipment. He let the tools spill across the floor and flung the tray at Ratchet’s helm. The medic ducked just in time. Inferno fired, tearing through Starscream’s wing and the wall behind him.

“I said don’t shoot!” roared Ratchet.

“He looks fine to me,” said Inferno.

“He’s got a broken sparkbond!”

The gun fell out of Inferno’s hand. Starscream went for it, but Sideswipe realized his intentions and kicked the weapon to the opposite side of the room, far out of anyone’s reach, before irreparable damage could be done.

The silence that stretched out across the medbay was broken finally by the sound of First Aid purging his tanks on the floor.

“Well, do we have Shockwave’s coordinates?” asked Sideswipe at last.

“No,” said Ratchet.

“You didn’t!” cried First Aid. “Ratch…you didn’t…”

“I didn’t have a choice,” said Ratchet, somewhat coldly. “If I hadn’t done it, someone else would have—someone, I might add, without any medical expertise whatsoever.”

Starscream leaned up against a wall for support and burst out laughing. The sound was broken and deranged.

“Right,” said Sideswipe uneasily. “Should I take him back to the brig, or what?”

“Absolutely not,” said Ratchet. “He needs to be monitored for a solar cycle at the very least. Starscream, I do not want to have to restrain you, but I will. Now you can stop throwing things and I can give you something for the pain, or—”

Starscream’s servo closed around the handle of a drawer. He wrenched it out and threw it in the direction of the Autobots. Datapads flew everywhere, and the drawer smashed to the floor.

“You are behaving like a sparkling,” said Ratchet. “I am trying to help you. I’m probably the only on in this ship on your side, so will you calm down and listen to me?”

“No!”

“If you don’t let me treat you, I can’t promise you’ll ever be able to renew your bond,” said Ratchet. “Do you want that?”

That worked. Starscream lowered his hands and let the medic come closer. Ratchet moved slowly, as if approaching a wounded mechanimal, but Starscream let him slip the sedative into his lines without any trouble.

When the darkness came, he welcomed it.

* * *

Skyfire onlined his optics. A teal-colored femme jet smiled down at him. Countermeasure.

“Hello there,” she said. “You will probably feel a very sharp pain in your spark chamber in a moment or so. Please do not panic.”

“What—?” mumbled Skyfire.

Then it hit—the most intense pain Skyfire had ever felt in his entire existence. He arched his back and choked back a scream. Countermeasure quickly plugged something into his medical access port, and the pain dulled to an unpleasant ache.

“Your spark frequency has stabilized, so you’re not in any immediate danger, but I’m keeping you here for observation.” Her crimson optics held his. “I’m sure you feel terrible. Unfortunately, what you really need is time to heal.”

Skyfire took a moment to process the world around him. One hand went to his spark chamber. It still felt as if someone had stabbed right through with an electro-blade, but whatever Countermeasure had given him had put up a sort of wall between Skyfire and the pain.

“I’ll kill them all,” he said, surprising himself with the lack of emotion in his voice.

The femme vented. “Well, if you’re well enough to make threats then I suppose you’re well enough for visitors.”

“Visitors?”

“Yes, some of the other mechs are asking to see you. It’s up to you.”

In the end, Skyfire decided that a distraction could not hurt. His first visitor was Perceptor, who insisted on scanning Skyfire’s spark himself despite assurances that the medics had been thorough. Next was Mirage, who spoke of other things, followed by Moonracer, who hugged him and sobbed until Powerglide dragged her out. Blaster stopped in without the cassettes, looking more solemn that Skyfire had ever seen him, but he did not stay long.

Skywarp came by a while later, but didn’t say anything and Skyfire didn’t try to get him to talk. Eventually, he left without a word.

When the rush ended, Sunstorm slipped into the medbay and sat down on the berth beside him. For once, Skyfire did not push Sunstorm away. Instead, he gathered the seeker into his arms and held him. Even the rhythm of his sparkpulse was right, and it was so easy to offline his optics and pretend.

They sat like that for a long time, Skyfire stroking Sunstorm’s wings and Sunstorm chirring contentedly, his arms wrapped around Skyfire’s neck.

Skyfire was completely unprepared for Shockwave’s sudden entrance. He tried to push Sunstorm away and sit up straight, but Sunstorm made an annoyed sound and pressed in closer to Skyfire’s plating.

Shockwave was utterly unreadable.

“I’m…sorry…” said Skyfire lamely, even though he was not sure what he was apologizing for. Using Sunstorm as a placeholder for Starscream? Having a broken sparkbond? The indignity of the entire situation?

“You are recovering?”

“Yes,” said Skyfire. “I’ll be back to work this time next solar cycle.”

“No.”

“No?”

“You will be leading the rescue. You must be in optimal condition. You will rest until our departure.”

“But the Omega Sentinel—”

“We are quite capable of finishing the work ourselves.”

Skyfire went quiet. Once, he might have argued. Insisted he was fine, that the project came first. How many times in the past had he neglected his own welfare in favor of an experiment?

But now, all he wanted to do was offline his optics and wait for the pain in his chest to fade away.

Shockwave gave the half-recharging Sunstorm another look. “His presence is beneficial to your spark?”

“Yes,” said Skyfire, figuring there was no point in lying.

“Interesting.” Shockwave’s tone was as clinical as ever. “I will leave you, then. My only request is that you refrain from doing anything which may hinder your recovery.”

“No promises,” said Skyfire.

Eventually, Sunstorm was called down to the workshop to help with the Sentinel, leaving Skyfire alone again. Countermeasure or one of the other medics constantly stopped by to check on him, but they never stayed long enough to have a conversation.

Skyfire was considering just trying to recharge when Skywarp came back. Skyfire wasn’t sure what exactly to say, but he decided to try to strike up a conversation this time.

“Do you think you can bring me a datapad?” asked Skyfire. “A blank one. I seem to be leaving mine everywhere, and now that I need one, I can’t find one…”

Skywarp nodded and began rifling through drawers. “Here’s one,” he said at last. He brought it over to the berth. “What do you need it for?”

“Planning,” said Skyfire, opening up a new document. “I can’t keep sitting here doing nothing, I’ll snap.”

Skywarp gave a small nod. “If you’re working, I can go.”

“You don’t have to,” said Skyfire.

Skywarp said nothing. He turned and stared at the wall as if it was utterly fascinating. Then, after a long moment, he said, “We all liked the energon sweets.”

Skyfire couldn’t hide a smile. “Starscream shared them with you?”

“Yeah, sometimes. When he wasn’t being a glitch. You make them yourself?”

“Yes.”

“We figured. They were good.”

“Thanks.” Skyfire hesitated. “I do love him, you know.”

Skywarp kept on staring at the wall. “Yeah. I know. And he…I know he can be an annoying fragger, and some days you want to kill him—”

“Only some days,” said Skyfire.

“He was so happy when we found you, you know that?”

Skyfire’s optics dimmed. “I know,” he said.

Skywarp went quiet again, and Skyfire turned his attention to his datapad.


	11. Strategy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elita draws some lines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the slowness and shortness and general terribleness of the update. I have been having a bad day. Also having a tiny bit of a writer’s block. Man I am pathetic. If anyone’s in the mood to talk me through it, I wouldn’t mind. Thanks to all my readers and commenters so far! You keep me going!

The medics weren’t happy, but Skyfire refused to spend another cycle in the medbay. There was just too much to do, even with Shockwave’s request that he not overexert himself. As soon as he was able, he went down to the workshop to check on the progress of the Sentinel.

It was a massive thing, and bore a startling resemblance to Omega Supreme (though, unlike Omega, these Sentinels were non-sentient drones). Nearly complete now, it was built so that Sunstorm could fit inside it with ease and be completely protected by its armor.

“You missed the test run, I’m afraid,” reported Perceptor. He was alone in the workshop when Skyfire found him. “Sunstorm did half a breem of controlling the motor functions. I’d have asked him to stay longer, but I didn’t want him firing his weapon indoors.”

The weapon was an enormous blaster that Perceptor had built to replace the Sentinel’s right hand. Assuming all went well, Sunstorm would be able to channel his excess energy into it instead of the Sentinel’s frame.

“It looks very good,” said Skyfire. “Has Shockwave made an announcement yet?”

“Not yet,” said Perceptor. “But I know he is meeting with Elita-1 in a few cycles to discuss use of the space bridge.”

Perceptor looked like he wanted to say more, but he was silent. Skyfire shot him a questioning look, and Perceptor gave a very deliberate glance into the corner. Skyfire followed his gaze to a newly-installed security camera.

[What we need,] said Perceptor over private comms, [is a way to shut down the Sentinel after we’ve accomplished our goals. I don’t want it in Decepticon hands.]

[You’re probably right,] said Skyfire. [It’s just too powerful.]

[I leave the matter in your servos, then,] said Perceptor. [Just be quick about it. We don’t have much time left—Shockwave wants to launch the rescue mission as soon as we come to an agreement with Elita.]

“I’ve been thinking,” said Skyfire aloud, “I’d like to be able to monitor Sunstorm’s process while he’s piloting the Sentinel. I’m afraid something will go wrong and he’ll damage it from within, even with the precautions we’ve taken. If I can link into the Sentinel’s HUD and optical feed, we could prevent some serious damage.”

“How will you do that without setting up a hardline connection?” asked Perceptor.

“I’d have to build something specifically designed to receive the data,” said Skyfire. “A helmet, perhaps.”

Perceptor nodded, “If you could, I would appreciate it. I just don’t have the time…”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Skyfire. “The medics will be glad I’m not straining myself.”

* * *

“I hope you’re here because you’ve seen the error of your ways and are going back to your berth,” said Countermeasure.

Skyfire showed her the sketch he had done. “I need to build this. Do you have any optical glass?”

It turned out that the medics did have optical glass, whole sheets of it, from which new optics could be cut. There was enough for Skyfire to make himself a visor. It was red, but Skyfire really could not have cared less about that. At some point over the millions of years that he’d been gone, optic coloration had become very important to his fellow Cybertronians. It was absurd, in Skyfire’s opinion—optic color was purely cosmetic, after all. Yet somehow, it had become another symbol of the civil war.

The helmet would allow him to monitor the status of the Omega Sentinel at all times. He’d know if it sustained damage, from either internal or external forces. Most importantly, he’d be able to shut it down from afar if the need arose.

The medics were generous with the optical glass, but they would not surrender even the tiniest fragment of cybertonium. So Skyfire had to use whatever scraps of metal were lying around for materials instead. Construction was not his forte, but it was easy work. Skyfire was grateful for the opportunity to get lost in something other than the stabbing pain in his chassis.

Skyfire made good progress, and after a while he decided to go find some energon. When he entered the rec room, overpowering noise hit him like a wave.

It was blaring and upbeat Earth music, and it was emanating from (who else?) Blaster. Skyfire did not recognize the song, but then, Skyfire could name perhaps three human musicians, none of them contemporary. He took in the wholly unexpected sight before him. Mirage was lounging in one of the chairs while Moonracer (who, despite her claims, appeared to have moved in) danced with Voltage. Acid Storm and Hurricane watched this from a nearby table with expressions that were neither jealousy nor exasperation. Sunstorm was in the far corner with a cube of his own, watching all the activity with a stunningly sparkling-like expression on his faceplates. He wasn’t hiding anymore, but Skyfire understood that didn’t mean he was quite ready to approach others.

All of the cassettes were gathered around Blaster, save Ravage, who was nowhere in sight (probably asleep on a pile of Skyfire’s datapads, now that he thought of it. Lazerbeak came and landed on his shoulder when she spotted him.

Skyfire decided to ignore the chaos and started across the room towards the energon dispenser. It was nice, he reflected, how he didn’t have to worry about knocking every article of furniture in the room over. In his admittedly limited experience, Decepticon bases and ships tended to be of a more convenient size. He hadn’t hit his helm on a doorway once since coming to Shockwave.

Skyfire took the seat by Mirage and began to drink, quickly. The noise was already beginning to bother his audials, even though it was sort of nice to see his fellow Cybertronians relaxing for once. Skyfire had never truly socialized on the Ark, so even though he knew that parties and such things happened, he’d never witnessed one.

When he was three-quarters done with his cube, Skywarp appeared in a flash of violet light. It spoke volumes to how much energon they now had, that Skywarp was able to teleport for recreational purposes.

“Elita is gonna be here any klick,” Skywarp yelled to Skyfire, over the noise of Blaster’s music. “So get to the conference room. Shockwave wants you in the meeting.”

“He does?” said Skyfire in surprise.

“Course he does, you stupid glitch,” said Skywarp. “The whole thing is your fault, after all.”

But he was smiling.

* * *

Like all femmes, Elita-1 was tiny—Skyfire probably could have picked her up with one servo. Not that he ever would have. Unline Moonracer, who was happy to climb on his shoulders like a cassette, Elita radiated authority.

She did not bring a large retinue with her, and Skyfire wondered if it was because she didn’t see the Decepticons as a threat or because she didn’t want to be viewed as a threat herself. As always, Chromia guarded her back with what would have been the single largest gun that Skyfire had ever seen in his entire existence if he hadn’t just returned from looking at the Sentinel.

Elita sat herself at the table across from Shockwave. Skyfire wasn’t sure where to sit or stand or even what to say, so he tried to camouflage himself as a decorative statue until Shockwave gestured towards a free seat impatiently.

“I’ll get to the point,” said Elita. “I know your first request will be the release of all the Decepticon prisoners in the Iacon stockages. Unfortunately, that is not something I will grant, as I do not trust that they won’t turn around and begin to slaughter my own soldiers.”

“Those warriors could be vital in making the rescue mission a success,” argued Shockwave. “And if we fail, we are dooming them to enslavement.”

Elita tilted her helm in acknowledgement. “If it comes to that, they will be released by my soldiers before they can be reprogrammed,” she said. “You have my word on that.”

“Your word,” said Shockwave, and Skyfire could have sworn he was sneering.

“Besides,” continued Elita, as if she hadn’t heard this, “I do not believe that you truly require their aid. Moonracer has told me that you have been constructing a rather…unique weapon in your lower levels.”

“My only priority is the prisoners in the Ark,” said Skyfire. “Sunstrom is an ideal distraction, especially if we let him loose on a nearby human city. Portland is very close, at it has a population of approximately half a million—”

“Wait a moment,” said Elita. “I cannot sanction the murder of humans, especially for the sake of a diversion.”

Skyfire went silent. He hadn’t even thought of how many humans would die if he released Sunstorm on them.

“The humans number in the billions,” said Shockwave. “And they have stated themselves that their race would benefit from some form of population control.”

“But it is not our place to implement it,” said Elita in a tone that made it clear she’d have no arguments.

“What if we gave the humans time to escape?” asked Skyfire. “The Sentinel is large. Sunstorm could feign slowness. There would still be property damages, but casualties would be minimized.”

He could tell Elita didn’t like this plan very much, and he couldn’t blame her. Under normal circumstances, he would be vehemently objecting as well. But things hadn’t been normal since he’d woken up from the ice.

“I take it you would be rescuing all the prisoners in the Ark, not just your…not just Commander Starscream?” asked Elita.

“That was my intention, yes,” said Skyfire. “The conditions there are…unacceptable. I would not rescue some and leave others.”

Elita said nothing. Skyfire knew she didn’t quite approve, but she seemed to understand that she had no say in the matter.

“There was something else I wished to discuss,” said Skyfire. “And…I hope you don’t think I’m imprudent for raising the subject. But I am concerned about what will happen after the rescue mission. Assuming it is a success, what then? Do we simply resume fighting? Pretend like none of this happened?”

“I do not know,” said Elita honestly. “The Autobot faction has been…it has been changed. I do not believe it will ever be the same again.”

“The Decepticons would await orders from Lord Megatron,” said Shockwave. “Though what those might be, I cannot guess.”

“What if there was peace?” asked Skyfire.

Chromia laughed. But Elita turned looked at him as if she was only just seeing Skyfire for the first time now.

“I would not oppose that,” she said.

“It would be a waste of effort,” said Shockwave. “Pacifist daydreams.”

“A cease-fire, then,” said Skyfire. “Temporary. One hundred vorns.”

“One hundred vorns of peace?” repeated Elita, and she sounded as if she was tasting the words.

“The Decepticons will never agree,” insisted Shockwave.

“No?” retorted Skyfire. “What’s the alternative, Shockwave? You have no energy. Even if we freed all the Decepticons in the stockades right this moment, you’d never be able to keep them all fueled. You’d all be destroyed or enslaved in the next deca-cycle.”

Shockwave went quiet.

“What I am afraid of,” said Elita, “is a hundred vorns spent stockpiling weapons and energy in anticipation for some great final battle.”

“Would you do that?” asked Skyfire.

“Yes,” said Elita, “because the Decepticons would be doing the same.”

“And if they didn’t?” asked Skyfire.

“You cannot promise that,” said Elita, shaking her helm. “I am sorry. You have a good spark. Perhaps one of the only ones left. If others were more like you…well, it doesn’t matter, because they’re not.”

The conversation fizzled out from there. There was a little bit of arguing, but everyone seemed drained. The femmes left a few cycles later, taking Moonracer and Powerglide with them. But before they went, Elita stopped and took one of Skyfire’s servos in both of hers.

“I am sorry,” she said softly, though not so softly that the others could not hear. “My brothers on Earth have wronged you and your bondmate terribly.”

“That’s not your fault,” said Skyfire.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not,” said Elita. “Do you not wish for revenge?”

“I—” began Skyfire.

_Red Alert’s servoes on Starscream’s spark._

Revenge?

_"I want him to feel it when I cut the thrusters out of your pedes," said Sunstreaker._

He’d hardly even considered it.

_::I don’t want to be alone again!::_

He’d never truly hurt another Cybertronian before. He wasn’t even sure if he was capable of it. Yes, the idea of Sunstreaker and Prowl and Red Alert being forced to pay for what they’d done was very attractive. But there was a difference between wanting something and going out and making it happen.

_"I’ll kill them all," he’d informed Countermeasure._

But if it came down to it, could he?


	12. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, again, for the slowness of the updates. Happy Holidays, everyone.

Despite Ratchet’s protestations that he needed more time for recovery, Starscream was returned to the brig the very next solar cycle. As soon as he was half-led, half-dragged through the doorway by Jazz and Sideswipe, Thundercracker leapt to his pedes and went to the elecrobars.

Starscream wondered how terrible he must look to warrant such a reaction.

“What happened?” asked Thundercracker. Starscream said nothing. Jazz gestured for Thundercracker to step back away from the bars, which he did without complaint. It wasn’t until Starscream was back in the cell and the Autobots were gone did Thundercracker ask again.

“What did they do?” he asked.

“They broke it,” whispered Starscream, in an oddly airy voice.

“Broke what?” Thundercracker frowned.

“The bond.” Starscream cupped his servoes over his spark. “They broke our bond.”

“Primus, you’re not serious! Are you alright?”

“Actually, I am quite certain that I am going to die, thank you for asking.”

Thundercracker helped him sit. “Were you able to get any information from him before you lost contact?”

Starscream gave a sharp glance to the security camera above the door.

Thundercracker shook his helm. “That’s sick. I can’t believe they would do that.”

Starscream nodded and stared down at his knees. Thundercracker reached out with a cautious servo and touched his wingleader’s arm.

“I’m fine,” hissed Starscream, but he did not pull away.

* * *

“We don’t have enough energon for that to succeed,” Shockwave said flatly, for the third time in the past breem.

“Yes we do, we’ll just have to go back to reduced rations afterwards,” said Skyfire yet again.

Shockwave made a noise of disgust. “It has been evident from the start that you have no grasp of strategy, but I thought you might at least understand that we require fuel in order to sur—”

“We can live on reduced rations for a few deca-cycles,” said Skyfire.

“The prisoners will require intense medical care in the next few solar cycles! We must save as much energy as possible—”

“And if we want to bring them here in order to give them medical care, I need Skywarp and Mirage fully powered!” said Skyfire. “I’m telling you, I know the Ark. The warriors will all rush out to fight Sunstorm, but they won’t leave it vacant! Red Alert will be there, and Inferno will probably be guarding him. Anyone who’s been confined to quarters will probably be there as well, and that could include the entire Aerialbot team.”

“Aerialbots?” said Shockwave scornfully. Apparently it wasn’t just the Decepticon seekers who were less than impressed by the young combiner team.

“They’re a bit of a mess in the air,” granted Skyfire. “But there’s five of them, and they are a combiner team. If they decided they wanted to stop me—”

“Didn’t they once ask Starscream’s trine for autographs?” asked Powerglide, who was leaning up against a wall and observing the argument like it was a spectator sport.

“They totally did!” yelled Skywarp from the next room.

“Can we focus?” asked Skyfire. The pain in his chest was making him short-tempered. Shockwave went icily silent.

“Let’s review this one more time,” said Skyfire. “Skywarp brings the empty Sentinel to Earth. That’s going to take ten cubes, even if it’s completely powered down. The rest of us will take the space-bridge. Are we agreed on that?”

Shockwave said nothing.

“The Rainmakers will stage the secondary diversion,” continued Skyfire. “And once the Autobots have spread out to handle the issues, I’ll break into the Ark with my team, whom I would greatly prefer to be operating at maximum energy levels.”

"I will not grant more than two cubes per soldier," said Shockwave. "You may accept my offer or reject it."

"I'll take it," said Skyfire. It wasn't much, but it would help. He wondered if the femmes could be convinced to make a donation. They'd be at the space bridge, after all.

Assuming he didn't allow himself to stop and think about what he was about to do, Skyfire figured his chances tomorrow were pretty good.

* * *

It was quiet in the security center. There was no activity in the halls, just how Red Alert liked it. Early mornings were his favorite time of day, with only a .009% chance of any rule-breaking occurring and a 7% chance of Decepticon activity. That second statistic would need to be revised now, Red Alert thought.

Out of a morbid sense of curiosity, Red Alert pushed at the bond. Inferno was online, in their quarters, and resolutely ignoring him. That was all Firestar’s fault, he thought. She’d poisoned Inferno against him because she was jealous, had been jealous from the start.

But now Firestar was gone, run off and joined the Decepticons (or something) with the rest of the femmes. And Red Alert was still here. Inferno may have loved them both equally, but there was no denying that Firestar was an outright traitor.

Funny, how long the list of traitors had grown. He reviewed the list in his processor.

_Aerialbot Combiner Team: Confined to quarters under guard._   
_Beachcomber: Confined to quarters._   
_Blaster: Defector._   
_Cosmos: Indeterminate._   
_Hound: Under suspicion._   
_Inferno: Indeterminate._   
_Mirage: Defector._   
_Perceptor: Defector._   
_Powerglide: Defector._   
_Protectobot Combiner Team: Under suspicion._   
_Ratchet: Confined to quarters or medbay under guard._   
_Seaspray: Under suspicion._   
_~~Jetfire~~ Skyfire: Defector._   
_Smokescreen: Under suspicion._   
_Tracks: Indeterminate._   
_Trailbreaker: Indeterminate._   
_Wheeljack: Confined to quarters under guard._

[Cliffjumper to the Ark: We have a…uh…a…frag it,] came Cliffjumper’s voice over the emergency comms. Red Alert checked his records—Cliffjumper and Hound were out on patrol, more to keep them occupied than anything. Idle soldiers were dangerous soldiers.

[Red Alert here. What is your status?]

[I don’t know how to explain this,] that was Hound, sounding nervous. [We followed unusual energy fluctuations to just outside Portland. And, uh, there’s this…this…]

[Please get to the point, Hound,] said Red Alert.

Instead of a reply, Hound sent Red Alert an image capture.

Red Alert spilled his energon cube across the entire control panel.

* * *

Twenty klicks later, the entire non-imprisoned command staff had assembled inside the security center.

“Please tell me that is not what it looks like,” said Prime, leaning over Red Alert’s shoulder to examine the somewhat-blurry image capture that Sky Spy was sending from Portland.

“Looks like an old Omega Sentinel to me,” said Ironhide. “Figured they’d all be scrap by now. How’d Shockwave pull this off?”

Prime glanced back at Prowl. “Your reports stated that they had nowhere near this quantity of cubes.” His tone wasn’t accusatory.

“I was certain they didn’t,” said Prowl. He appeared dumbfounded. “If they had, I don’t think we’d have been able to take so many prisoners in the last battle.”

“It’s a diversion,” said Red Alert. “They’ve launched this ridiculous attack to keep our attention away from their true goal.”

“I am inclined to agree,” said Prowl. “It’s likely this is meant to cover for an energon raid elsewhere.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” said Jazz. “Shockwave must’ve spent almost a thousand cubes to bring that thing online! Even if Primus himself showed up and said, ‘Here, guys, take this!’ and dropped five thousand cubes on Shockwave’s helm, they’re still spending more than they’ll get back out of some raid!”

“Ironhide, assemble an emergency team,” said Prime. “Try to lead it out of the city, if you can’t take it down. Those humans need our help. Red Alert, call the Protectobots and the Aerialbots to help with the evacuations.”

“The Aerialbots are confined to base,” said Red Alert.

“Not anymore,” said Prime.

Red Alert didn't look happy, but he opened a comm line. On screen, the Omega Sentinel raised its weapon and fired at a collapsed building. The rubble burst into flaming yellow light.

“What th’ frag—what the frag was that?” yelped Jazz.

"That was entirely unexpected," said Prowl. It was the closest he'd ever admit to being shaken.

"Ironhide, go," said Prime. "I will be behind you with a secondary force shortly."

Jazz pointed an accusatory finger at Prowl. “This—this is your fault. You know who did this, and you know why. This ain’t a diversion. This is revenge.”

“Inefficient revenge, then,” said Prowl. “Let him have his outrage. They will all starve to death within the next megacycle.”

“And the humans?” asked Jazz.

“Unfortunate casualties, as always,” said Prowl. "Please take your servo out of my face. I am trying to formulate a plan."

* * *

Skywarp hovered just out of Sunstorm’s ‘incinerate’ range. He was actually impressed by the other mech’s self-restraint, not that he’d ever admit it. If it had been Skywarp in the Sentinel, Portland would be gone.

But maybe it was a good thing Skywarp wasn’t the one in the Sentinel, because if the humans got hurt then the Autobot girls would get mad and ruin the whole mission and then Shockwave would get mad and fragging Skyfire would get mad and it just wouldn’t be worth it.

Skywarp’s sensors lit up at the approach of more Cybertronians. Grounders. Autobots. He counted them. If he hadn’t been in alt-mode, he would have grinned.

[Skywarp to Skyfire. They're here.]


	13. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyfire rescues his wife. Wow that only took you thirteen chapters good job man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU ARE SO IRRESISTIBLY SEXY THAT YOU GET TWO UPDATES TODAY. YES, YOU. SPECIFICALLY.

The Dinobots were not having much of an effect on the Omega Sentinel, Prowl had to admit. It was worrying to see it shrug off their flame-breath attacks like they were nothing. Curiously, it hadn’t actually done that much damage yet. Oh, the business district of Portland would never be the same again, but there hadn’t been any Cybertronian casualties reported yet.

[Hey, did you just lose your visual?] asked Hound. He’d found a small encampment of Decepticons near the space bridge, including Shockwave, and had been ordered to keep watch.

“Yes,” said Red Alert from his seat next to Prowl in the Security Center. “As a matter of fact, we did.”

[Figured. Yeah, Sky Spy is out for now.]

“Shockwave shot it?” asked Red Alert.

[No. Well. Yes. He shot at it. Twenty times.] Shockwave’s aim, or lack thereof, was legendary. [It was actually, uh, Moonracer who broke its camera.]

“The femmes are aiding them?” asked Prowl.

“Not aiding, exactly,” said Hound. “None of them are doing much yet. Just sort of…standing around. I see Perceptor doing something with some medics. Oh and, that Omega Sentinel thing…they’re calling it Sunstorm.”

Prowl frowned and glanced over Jazz, who was on his other side. “The Sunstorm Project never happened,” he said. “Jazz, you verified that vorns ago. It was nothing but nonsensical rumors.”

“Well, looks like I was wrong,” said Jazz. “Not that I’m the only one in this room who’s ever been wrong, if you catch my drift—”

“Thank you for your unsolicited feedback,” snapped Prowl.

“Sorry, I thought I got a say,” Jazz snarled back, “seeing as you wanted to bond, and all, after the war ended.”

“This is not about you,” said Prowl. “This is about the Decepticons—”

“No, this is about you being out of your damned processor!” said Jazz.

“I’m doing what needs to be done to protect the Autobot cause!” yelled Prowl.

Jazz gave Prowl a searching look. “And you really do believe that, don’t you?”

[I’m, uh, still here,] said Hound.

“Then get out!” bellowed Jazz. The connection cut immediately.

Prowl just stared at Jazz, unmoving. Jazz broke his gaze first.

“Incoming transmission from the humans,” said Jazz, suddenly all business again. “Apparently there’s Decepticons attacking the Montebello Oil Fields,”

Prowl gritted his dentae. “Fine. Who’s left on base?”

“Wheeljack—”

“No.”

“Bumblebee, Gears, Seaspray, Tracks, Grapple, Hoist—”

“Fine.” Prowl got up.

“Where are you going?” demanded Red Alert.

“To deal with this.” Prowl wouldn’t admit it, but he needed to clear his processor. Maybe shooting at some Decepticons would help.

* * *

[We’ve got Autobots,] reported Acid Storm.

[Finally,] said Skyfire. He’d been in his alt-mode for a while now, while Blaster, Mirage and Skywarp waited in his hold. Without waiting for clearance from Shockwave or Elita, he ignited his thrusters and shot off into the morning sky.

The route from the space bridge to the Ark was eerily familiar. Skyfire could almost pretend he was returning from a routine day gathering samples with Wheeljack and Perceptor. As the half-buried ship came into sensory range, Skyfire felt his spark twist.

He let his passengers disembark. Then he transformed and unsubspaced his particle blaster. He’d been given it shortly after being awoken from the ice. It still felt strange in his servo.

“You think Red Alert knows we’re here?” asked Skywarp.

“No question about it,” said Skyfire, staring into the entryway of the Ark.

“Why are we still standing here?” asked Blaster.

“I’ll tell you why,” said Skywarp. “He’s having second thoughts. Am I right?”

“Nggh,” said Skyfire. Breaking Megatron and Starscream and Soundwave out of the brig. No, nothing insane about that. Nothing to hesitate about.

“Hey!” Skywarp struck him in the abdomen, “if you’re gonna dither over every little thing, you might as well have stayed in the ice. At least that way you weren’t in anyone’s way. Frag, I’ll teleport you there myself.”

Skywarp looked like he might do it, too, so Skyfire forced himself to move. Mirage vanished from view, and Skywarp rushed forward and then disappeared with a _snap!_

Skyfire glanced over at Blaster. The other mech was already halfway inside, weapon ready. Ducking to avoid the low entranceway, Skyfire followed after him.

Blaster raised his weapon and fired. Too late, Skyfire saw the sentry drone that was just ahead of them. He looked down at his own particle blaster yet again. Being careful that he wouldn’t accidentally hit the back of Blaster’s helm, Skyfire took aim and fired.

The sentry drone had enough of this abuse and finally fell over, sparking erratically.

“That won’t be the only one,” said Blaster. “Come on, let’s—”

From down one of the other hallways came a noise like _crack!_ It was followed by several groans of frustration.

“Come on, frag this,” grumbled Wheeljack. Skyfire and Blaster froze. A moment later, the scientist rounded the corner, with Beachcomber trailing behind him.

“Uh…” said Skyfire.

“Red Alert said there was more than one intruder,” said Wheeljack, sounding mildly impressed. “How have you been?”

“Uh, better,” said Skyfire.

“We need to get to the brig,” said Blaster.

“Don’t let me stop you,” said Wheeljack, stepping aside. “Tell Perce I said hi, will you?”

“Wheeljack, what are you doing?” came Red Alert’s voice over the speakers. “Stop him!”

Wheeljack turned towards the nearest security camera and made a gesture that Skyfire didn’t recognize at all—probably human in origin. Red Alert made an indignant noise and the speakers went silent.

“Do you want to come with us?” asked Skyfire at last.

“Pit, yes!” said Wheeljack, unsubspacing a weapon.

Infuriated by this defiance, Red Alert sent a whole wave of security drones at them. They folded themselves out from the walls, more than Skyfire would have ever imagined being able to even fit inside the Ark.

Skyfire kicked over another deactivated security drone. The hallway was quickly filling with fallen frames, and Skyfire had more than a few scars and burns to show for it. He also learned that while shooting the drones was easy, it was easier still to reach forward and twist their processors off. Skyfire was surprised when Blaster said most mechs didn’t have the physical strength for that sort of thing.

Ducking too many low-hanging doorframes, Skyfire ran down the familiar halls. He stopped short outside the medbay. Maybe…?

Deciding to act impulsively for once, Skyfire kicked the doors open. Ratchet gaped at him from across the room. But the medic wasn’t alone in the medbay.

Sunstreaker was guarding him.

Skyfire felt his processor go fuzzy. He tilted his helm to one side.

“Well, this is awkward,” said Sunstreaker.

The warrior took a step back, but Skyfire was faster. He grabbed the much smaller mech by the neck and lifted him clear off his feet…but only for a moment. Before Sunstreaker had the chance to say a word, Skyfire regained control of himself and set Sunstreaker back down on the ground.

“You’re not worth it,” said Skyfire.

Leaving medbay behind, Skyfire went to catch up with Blaster. Occasionally he heard the rumble of Mirage’s motor, or Skywarp’s reckless laughter. When they had reached the lowest levels, Skyfire stopped in front of the vault that held all the weapons that had been confiscated from the prisoners.

“You gonna…?” began Blaster.

“Can you get this open, Wheeljack?” asked Skyfire.

* * *

Skyfire didn’t kick the brig door open. That would have been highly undignified. But he did rip the door open very quickly, and he was pretty sure he heard a hinge groan in complaint.

He gave a quick glance around the brig. Soundwave was in the first cell, and Megatron in the second. Starscream and Thundercracker were leaning together in the one at the far end of the room.

Ignoring the others, Skyfire rushed forward towards his bondmate. Starscream’s optics flickered with something between disbelief and regret.

“Wheeljack, the bars,” said Skyfire.

“Just a klick,” muttered Wheeljack, working at the settings terminal. The electro-bars dissolved.

Not caring who saw, Skyfire pressed a kiss to Starscream’s forehelm and pulled him closer so that their spark plating touched. And for the first time in cycles, the ache in Skyfire’s spark began to fade.

“I told you I had it under control,” rasped Starscream.

“Yes, I know. I am adding that claim to my collection of evidence that you may be a pathological liar. We need to hurry, before someone comes back.” Skyfire knelt down and touched careful fingertips to Starscream’s pedes. Then he turned to Thundercracker. “Are any more of your soldiers being kept elsewhere on the Ark?”

“Not that we know of,” said the other seeker, eyeing Skyfire with obvious suspicion.

“Good.” Skyfire unsubspaced two arm-cannons and handed them to Thundercracker. “Are these yours?”

“Yes…”

Resisting the urge to kiss his bondmate senseless, Skyfire unsubspaced an emergency medkit and went to work coating Starscream’s pedes in a numbing gel and binding them enough for him to walk more easily.

“How the frag did you get in here?” asked Starscream.

“You’ll see. Any other injuries?”

Starscream shook his helm. “Not on me. But Soundwave’s fragged up.”

Skyfire looked back at Soundwave. Blaster was slowly and painstakingly helping the other mech to his pedes. To his mild surprise, Megatron was on Soundwave’s other side, letting him lean on his arm.

“We’ve got medics waiting,” said Skyfire, forcing a smile. “They’re pretty.”

Starscream nodded. Then he leaned in closer and lowered his vocalizer to a whisper. “Skyfire, I…”

“I know. Come on, we can talk later.” He put one arm around Starscream’s waist and lifted him into the air. Starscream gave a cry of objection, so Skyfire set him back on his pedes.

“Does that hurt?” asked Skyfire.

“Not so bad,” said Starscream through gritted dentae. “Come on, move. I’m sick of this place, and I’m getting sick of you as well.”

“Wait a moment,” said Megatron, turning his attention away from Soundwave. “If you have our weapons, I demand mine back.”

“My apologies,” said Skyfire. “Your fusion cannon spontaneously combusted after I shot it with my particle blaster seventeen times in a row.”

“Is that what that noise was?” asked Thundercracker.

“Skyfire, you _didn’t_ ,” said Starscream, sounding scandalized. “I spent stellar cycles on that stupid thing!”

“Sorry,” Skyfire told Megatron, who had a distinctly murderous expression on his faceplates, “but you don’t get a weapon today. If you kill someone, it might ruin what I’m planning.”

“What if we only kill someone a little bit?” asked Starscream. Then he shook his helm. “That must be the painkillers talking.”

“Nah, it sounded just like you,” said Thundercracker.

“Come over here so I can hit you,” ordered Starscream. “Skyfire, I want to hit him.”

“Not that I’m complaing,” said Thundercracker, “but where the frag are the Autobots?”

“The non-traitor Autobots, you mean?” asked Wheeljack brightly.

“Um. Yes. They’re busy,” said Skyfire.

“Are you saying this ship is empty?” asked Megatron.

“Well, Red Alert’s around here somewhere,” said Skyfire. “Possibly Jazz…”

Starscream buried his faceplates in Skyfire’s arm and laughed.


	14. Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The daring escape draws to a close, but the trouble isn't over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you all had a better Christmas than I did.

Starscream would not allow himself to be carried, even with his pedes gutted. It was, Skyfire supposed, a matter of pride.

Megatron tried to push ahead, but Skyfire led the group—with painstaking slowness, because Starscream hissed angrily if he sensed Skyfire was trying to help more than he deemed appropriate. 

Red Alert seemed to have run out of droids to send at them. Skyfire was grateful for that—with Starscream and Soundwave requiring so much attention, he wasn’t sure if he could handle another fight.

They were about a quarter of the way through when Skyfire first heard the sound of heavy pedesteps. He froze up automatically. Whoever it was, he was too big to be Mirage or Beachcomber. Inferno, maybe?

It wasn’t Inferno.

It was Optimus Prime, standing in the doorway and looking…sad. Like a disappointed creator. Skyfire didn’t have to look to know that the mechs behind him had suddenly gone rigid with fear.

“Skyfire, I expected better from you,” Prime said.

“And I expected better from you,” said Skyfire, his arm tightening around the seeker that clung to his side. Part of him could barely believe he was saying the words.

“I do not favor such acts,” said Prime. “But for the sake of ending this war…”

“No. That’s not good enough,” said Skyfire. “You can’t throw your principles away when they don’t suit your situation.”

Prime gave a heavy sigh. “I envy your idealism. You’ve managed to remain untouched by the war, and so you remember what it was like to cherish every life. But our planet will never see peace until this threat is eliminated.”

“You can’t know that,” said Skyfire, but he felt his resolve ebbing away. This was his Prime, how could he think to argue, how could he presume to know better?

“Call off that…Sentinel,” continued Prime, graciously, “and I will welcome you back. You know that this is for the good of our home.”

“Skyfire!” cried Starscream in warning. “That’s the Matrix working, you need to fight it!”

The words seemed to awaken him. Skyfire felt a chill touch his spark. He’d been that close to agreeing to Prime’s terms! And now he was aware of it, the subtle-yet-irresistible song of the Matrix.

He’d heard the Matrix-song before, but never like this. Day-to-day, it was a soft lullaby, registering only if one was actively listening for it. During battle, it became a call to arms, a wordless hymn of power and protection that even a pacifist like Skyfire could appreciate. 

Except now the song had warped and turned against him. The notes were eerie, accusatory, even threatening. He felt his processor begin to ache.

“You have a future,” said Prime. “The Academy burned, and for what?”

“Don’t pretend you know what you’re talking about, Prime,” sneered Starscream. “Yes. The Academy burned. If I could bring them all back, I would. And then I would kill them again.”

“Who are you to say they deserved to die?” asked Prime, and there was sadness in what Skyfire could see in his faceplates. 

“Who are you to say they deserved to live?” retorted Starscream.

Prime didn’t seem to feel Starscream was worth the reply. Instead he locked optics with Skyfire. 

“He will drag you down with him. Is that what you want?” asked Prime.

No. No it wasn’t.

“Stand down,” suggested Prime. That…sounded like a good idea. Skyfire began to lower his weapon and loosen his grip on his bondmate—

“Focus, idiot!” Starscream cried. Skyfire snapped back to reality. Red optics glared up at him. 

The Matrix-song grew more oppressive, and Skyfire only refrained from offlining his audials because he knew it wouldn’t be any use, the song was in his spark as much as it was in his processor. And then—

_—guilt, crushing guilt that seared through his plating and made his spark twist in shame. How dare he think to raise a hand to the Matrix-bearer, what was wrong with him, had he gone utterly mad? How could he live with himself after this? Did he hate Cybertron and Primus? The only viable solution was to surrender now, yes, surrender, and perhaps he would be granted mercy that he knew he did not deserve—_

One of Starscream’s digits slipped under Skyfire’s outer plating and gave a hard pinch to some sensitive wires. Skyfire broke out of the trance, vents heaving, faintly aware that Starscream was yelling curses and insults at him. No. There was no way he’d be able to take down Prime, not while he carried the Matrix. On a related note, he now had a whole new respect for Megatron.

Skyfire turned partway to look at the aforementioned Decepticon leader. He was smirking, and Skyfire got the feeling that he’d just failed some sort of test, rather spectacularly. 

“That was pathetic, Autobot,” he said. “I don’t believe you were even trying.”

“Sometimes I swear you go out of your way to embarrass me,” grumbled Starscream, apparently in agreement. 

Skyfire opened his mouth to defend himself, but Megatron had apparently had enough of talking. He threw himself at Prime bodily, and both mechs went crashing to the floor. Instinct took over from there, and within moments the two respective leaders were locked in the same fistfight they engaged in every battle.

Skyfire was not one to pass up such an opportunity, and he half-dragged Starscream to the next room. Wheeljack took over the task of helping Blaster to escort Soundwave—who was still treating everything like an incredibly dull shift of monitor duty. He might as well have been wearing his mask and visor again, for all the emotion he showed.

* * *

“Get out there and stop them,” said Red Alert, tearing his optics away from the screen at last.

“If Prime couldn’t stop them, I sure can’t,” said Inferno.

“So you’re on their side now, too?” cried Red Alert, his optics going white with static. “I…I trusted you!”

“Hey,” said Inferno, and his faceplates softened for the first time in the last few solar cycles. “Red. Listen to me. Of course I’m on your side. I’ll always be on your side. But this has gone too far. Everyone else can see it.”

Red Alert said nothing. But a moment later, all the offline weapons that were built into the walls of the security center hummed to life and turned, as one, to point at Inferno.

“Now, you wouldn’t do that, Red,” said Inferno, trying hard not to look down one of the many, many barrels. But he edged back towards the doorway a little.

“You think I’m crazy,” accused Red Alert. 

“I think…I think you’re doing what you think is best,” said Inferno, speaking very quickly now. “But Red, you’ve broken the Autobot Code. You have t’ realize what you’re turning into. I…I hate seeing you like this.”

“You hate me!” Red Alert was shaking visibly. “You…you love her more! And the moment I turn my back, you’ll run off and join her and—”

“Now, that’s not true, and you know it ain’t,” said Inferno. “I love you both just the same. And I wouldn’t leave you for her. I know you need me more than she does.”

Red Alert seemed to falter, and the guns fell still and silent again. But it only lasted a moment, before his expression became cold and the guns roared to life again.

“You’re still a traitor,” said Red Alert. 

Inferno reached out across the bond, only to hit the very blocks that he’d put up himself in his anger. He shoved them aside with all his strength and let all the love and reassurance that he was capable of flow through.

_::I’m sorry.::_

Red Alert fell into Inferno’s waiting arms. Meanwhile, on the viewscreen behind him, the prisoners escaped into the sunlight.

* * *

Skyfire had only a moment to enjoy the warmth of Earth’s afternoon sunlight before there was the crack of displaced oxygen molecules, and then Skywarp was hovering in the air before them. He stayed like that for a moment before dropping to the ground and tackling both his wingmates.

“Hey! Be careful! They both need medical attention!” yelled Skyfire.

“Primus, Warp—!” cried Thundercracker.

“Get off me, you moron!” Starscream, of course.

“Why didn’t you ever tell us your Autobot was crazy?” asked Skywarp. “We had to figure it out ourselves, and that took days ’cause he’s so fragging polite.”

“I’m _right here_.”

“Yeah, don’t remind us,” said Thundercracker.

“Wait—” Skywarp did a quick head count, “what’d you do with Megs, Screamer? Aw frag, your boyfriend killed him for you, didn’t he—”

“Shut up, Skywarp. Our illustrious leader chose to engage Prime rather than make an immediate escape.” Starscream leaned his helm against Skyfire’s arm. “I am sure he will manage to find his way back to us, if only to spite me.”

“You all need to get back to Shockwave for medical attention,” said Skyfire. “I have to get to Portland and resolve this situation, but I can take you to the spacebridge.”

Skyfire carried Wheeljack, Mirage and Blaster, as well as Starscream and Soundwave in his hold. Thundercracker and Skywarp flew alongside him, so near to each other that their wingtips nearly touched. Meanwhile, Starscream complained incessantly about the fact he couldn’t fly too. This kept on until Soundwave reached out and slapped him across the back of the helm, at which point the whining turned to the subject of Skyfire telling Starscream that he’d deserved it.

The medics, as promised, had everything prepped by the time Skyfire arrived at the space bridge. Soundwave’s cassettes were all waiting for him, and they piled into his arms the moment he stepped off Skyfire’s ramp. 

Shockwave and Elita were both standing in front of a portable viewscreen that had been set up. It was sending footage from what appeared to be a human news station. The cameras were getting a perfectly clear view of Sunstorm.

“Holy slag,” said Thundercracker. “You brought a Guardian!”

“What the frag?” Starscream looked as if he might be in serious danger of falling over. “What the frag! What’s powering that thing?”

“Ah. Sunstorm.”

“Now I see why you bonded to him,” Thundercracker informed Starscream, who now had his faceplate in his palm. “He’s as much of a lunatic as you are. He just hides it better.”

Apparently satisfied with Soundwave’s status, the medics whisked Starscream away from Skyfire and immediately set to work removing his legs from the knee-joints down and replacing them with new, protoform-grey limbs.

“And where is Megatron?” demanded Shockwave, storming over. “If you have left him behind, Autobot, I swear—”

“He wouldn’t come with us!” protested Skyfire. “Prime showed up and they started fighting, so we left without him.”

Shockwave looked highly skeptical. 

“I’m going to Portland,” said Skyfire. “I want a meeting with the rest of the Autobots. This needs to stop. I think you agree?”

“I’d be interested in hearing whatever you have to say,” said Elita. 

“Your support would mean a lot to me,” said Skyfire. “I can transport you and your soldiers, if you like.”

“I will assemble them,” said Elita. 

Skyfire turned around to look for Starscream, who was sitting up on the emergency berths. One of his new legs had been attached, the other was still in the process of being connected in by Countermeasure and Panacea. 

“I’m going to try and talk to the Autobots,” explained Skyfire. “I won’t be long.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” said Starscream immediately. “You’re helpless before the Matrix. All Prime has to do is start prattling on about Cybertron and you’ll sell us out without even knowing you’re doing it.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, Star, but I am about to walk onto a battlefield and you currently have one leg.”

“You can wait two fragging breems,” said Starscream, waving a servo dismissively. 

“Elita will be with me,” said Skyfire. “She’ll kick me if I start agreeing with Prime too much, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m practically finished here. It won’t kill you to wait.”

“Those replacements will take at least a decacycle to integrate! And none of your other injuries have been seen to!” cried Skyfire.

“I can handle it. I wouldn’t be insisting on coming if I couldn’t.”

“Why are you being completely unreasonable?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You are about to go into emergency stasis lock and you’re insisting on walking into a situation that could easily turn violent,” said Skyfire. “Tell me what this is about!”

“Told you he was fraggin’ dumb,” said Skywarp’s voice. Thundercracker was sitting on another medical berth with an energon cube, and Skywarp was just beside him. Both seekers looked distinctly unapologetic.

“And why am I ‘fragging dumb’?” asked Skyfire. “Somebody, please explain this to me, because I am beginning to get a bit frustrated.”

“Skywarp, be silent,” ordered Starscream. 

“No, I want to hear this,” said Skyfire.

“Forget I said anything,” said Skywarp, but he was smirking again. “Primus, _Star_ , why are you being completely unreasonable?”

“Shut up!”

“—I mean, it’s not like he has a history of switching factions without warning or just disappearing in general—”

Skyfire’s optics paled with shock. “You think…you think I’m going to leave.”

Starscream’s wings trembled and he glanced away, suddenly fascinated by the desert sand. “I don’t care what you do,” he snapped. “I don’t need you.”

Skyfire knelt down and took Starscream’s shoulders in his servos. “Look at me, Star.”

Starscream yanked out of his grasp and slapped him across the faceplates. “You want to go so badly? Then go! I don’t care! I’m sick of looking at you!”

“I will come back.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” scoffed Starscream.

Even without the bond, Skyfire could feel Starscream's optics on him long after he'd lifted off and vanished from view.


	15. Compromise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That awkward moment when you and your combiner team isn't allowed into the Decepticon army because your SAT scores are too low.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very, very special thanks to Kenzie for all her help. I had trouble with this chapter (it probably still shows) and I wouldn't have been able to get through it without her.

[Sunstorm?] asked Skyfire.

[Yes, beloved of my spark?]

[Withdraw if you can, but don’t go too far. I’m heading in.]

In the distance, Skyfire saw the towering mech take a few steps back and then shoot off into the sky. A few optimistic laser beams followed him, but Sunstorm was soon far out of range.

[Skyfire!] yelled a familiar voice over the comms. A moment later, a smaller jet shot past him. The Aerialbots had picked him up on their sensors, and now a comm channel burst to life as all five started yelling at once.

[Did you really join the Decepticons?] Skydive.

[Prowl grounded us!] Slingshot.

[We missed you! Nobody would tell us anything!] Fireflight.

[Why didn’t you tell us you were bonded to Starscream? That’s so awesome!] Air Raid.

[And sparkbreaking,] sighed Fireflight, openly envious.

[Yeah, can you introduce us?]

[Grounded! Us!] yelled Slingshot again.

[We were going to come looking for you,] said Silverbolt, who was significantly calmer than his brothers, [but the seekers once said that if we wanted to join the Decepticons we all needed to get our Planetary Aerial Aptitude scores up to nine hundred and we’re only four hundred on a good day.]

[Uh…] said Skyfire. He’d already forgotten how overwhelming the Aerialbots could be. But they weren’t attacking him, so that was good. [Only four hundred? Really?]

[We’re getting better,] said Air Raid defensively. And not for the first time, Skyfire wished that he could put the Aerialbots into the proper sparkling bodies they deserved.

[Listen, I need to talk to all the Autobots,] said Skyfire. [Let me land, and I’ll tell you everything later. I’ve got passengers.]

The Aerialbots didn’t try to stop him, which was good. Skyfire would have felt terribly guilty if he’d had to hurt one of them. As he came in for a landing, he was very much aware that all the weapons that had been pointed at Sunstorm were now trained on him. But nobody fired—not yet, anyway.

Skyfire let the femmes in his hold disembark. That worked for getting the weapons to lower—femmes were the rarest frametype in existence, and they’d been so even before the war broke out. Traitors or not, Autobot soldiers would not fire on them.

As soon as they were clear, Skyfire transformed to see that Elita was standing before the amassed Autobots like a queen before her subjects. Chromia and Firestar were just behind her, weapons ready.

“Elita. What is this?” Prowl asked, coming forward. Behind him, nursing burns and various other injuries, was what appeared to be every Autobot who hadn’t defected or been driven away.

“What does it look like?” asked Elita. “We’ve all had enough of this ridiculousness. It cannot be allowed to continue.”

“I must point out that negotiations were well underway until he chose to defect with classified information.” Prowl glanced at Skyfire warily.

“Negotiations?” said Skyfire in disbelief. “Is that what you call what you’ve been doing?”

Prowl looked like he might actually deny the charge, but Jazz stepped in. It occurred to Skyfire that Prowl was meant to be distracted by the rainmakers, and Jazz was supposed to still be at the Ark. Apparently Sunstorm had caused a bigger stir than Skyfire had anticipated.

“Alright, ladies, gentlemechs, I think we can all put these weapons away, we’re all Autobots here,” said Jazz. “I’ll give some proper negotiation a chance. Where’d Prime get to?”

“We left him fighting Megatron on the Ark,” said Skyfire. “Eventually they will realize that they are the only ones still there. I think.”

“Until then, I want to make my position perfectly clear,” said Elita, “as there still seems to be some confusion. I will settle for nothing less than a complete cessation of hostilities. If not, you may all expect to continue the war without our aid because it appears you have all forgotten the reason we began fighting in the first place.”

Skyfire looked at her in surprise. He’d hadn’t been expecting quite that degree of support, not after what she’d said at the meeting with Shockwave.

“We fight to end this threat,” said Prowl stiffly.

“And when the threat’s not a threat anymore?” countered Elita.

“Decepticons will never not be a threat. As long as they are allowed to exist—”

“As long as this war is allowed to go on, we have no future! When the last spark is finally extinguished, what will the rest of the universe say of us? ‘They did nothing but destroy, good that they’re finally gone’?”

Skyfire brought an idle hand up to his spark plating. The painkillers were starting to wear off, leaving him with an irrational urge to punch things until the pain went away.

“That might be true,” said Jazz, “but treaties don’t write themselves, so I can’t promise—”

“I drafted one,” said Skyfire, unsubspacing a datapad. He gave it to Elita, who passed it on to Jazz. “You’re welcome to suggest any changes.”

Jazz stared down at the datapad in shock. After a moment his optics brightened as if he’d just been let in on a very good joke. Prowl came and looked over his shoulder.

“And if we do not agree to your terms?” asked Prowl.

Skyfire glanced upward. Sunstorm was still there, casting his immense shadow over the wreckage.

“Hey, I want to see,” complained someone from the crowd. A minute later, Bumblebee pushed forward to duck beneath Jazz’s elbow and look at the datapad. Hound was close behind him, and it was Tracks that plucked the pad out of Jazz’s servos.

“That’s my only copy,” said Skyfire helplessly, as it was passed through the crowd—surely it was going around too quickly for anyone to actually read anything? Or was the very idea of a peace treaty so novel that everyone wanted to touch it, to look at the words, to verify that such a thing might be capable of existing.

“I don’t like this part about a unified government,” said Gears. “I say we have our Senate, like old times, and the ’cons can just—”

“I thought it was a good idea,” said Windcharger. “The Senate was corrupt, you can’t deny—”

“Maybe, but—”

“They weren’t that bad,” someone else said.

“Not that bad! Have Ratchet look at your memory files when we get back!”

And that was the last thing Skyfire heard before the discussion turned into an unmoderated debate and the noise grew so loud that he could barely hear Elita when she turned to him and said, “I think that went well, don’t you?”

It was Sideswipe who spoke up at the first available lull, “And what’s Prime said about this?”

Skyfire looked at Sideswipe. Surely Sideswipe knew what had happened in the medbay—or, more accurately, what hadn’t happened. But if he felt anything about it, he didn’t show it.

“I don’t think he’ll agree,” continued Sideswipe. “We’ve got the ’cons in a tight spot. What’s stopping us from just finishing the job?”

There was a quiet murmur of agreement.

“End of the war, I like that,” said Cliffjumper. “Having to live on the same planet as the ’cons and not being allowed to shoot them? No fragging way.”

“The fact is, we’ve already won,” said Sideswipe. “Everyone’s gone crazy, mechs are starting to think the war’s not over. But it is!”

Skyfire reached into his subspace and pulled out the helmet he’d constructed. It fit perfectly, as he’d known it would. Sideswipe gave him an odd look.

“Don’t mind me,” said Skyfire, linking himself in to Sunstorm’s optical feed. “Keep talking.”

The link established itself quickly. Immediately, Skyfire could see what Sunstorm saw through the Sentinel’s optics—himself, standing before the other Autobots. The tiny pink shape that was Elita, the tiny red shape that was Sideswipe, gesturing wildly, and the less tiny white shape that was his own frame. He couldn’t control where the optics went, that was still Sunstorm’s domain...for now.

_Initiate remote control._

_Synchronizing._

_Synchronized._

[Skyfire?] cried Sunstorm in alarm. [I’ve lost control of the—]

Skyfire raised the Sentinel’s arm, aimed the weapon that Perceptor had modified to be able to turn Sunstorm’s excess energy into plasma bolts, and fired at a heap of rubble only a few feet away from Sideswipe.

“I don’t think I’ve made myself clear,” said Skyfire. He could hear himself speaking, but only with his own audials. The Sentinel was too far away to pick up the sound. It was also, apparently, too far away to pick up the sound of his spark, beating fast with fear and twisting with pain.

[What are you doing?] cried Sunstorm.

[Making a point. Be quiet for a moment, please.]

“So you’re saying, what? That if we don’t agree to your terms, you’ll fry us all?” Sideswipe laughed, harshly. “You wouldn’t. You couldn’t even get Sunny back.”

“I wouldn’t want to,” said Skyfire. “And I wouldn’t do it here, or now. But you say you’ve won the war? I respectfully disagree. I’d hate to have to prove it.”

“You wouldn’t,” said Sideswipe again, but Bluestreak kicked him. Sideswipe turned, annoyed, but the look on Bluestreak’s faceplates said it all. _Don’t argue with the mech pointing a city-destroying eldritch abomination at us,_ he implored silently.

“Right,” said Skyfire. “If there are no more complaints, there’s something I need to go fix.”

* * *

The sky was darkening by the time Skyfire arrived back at the space bridge. The medics were packing up their supplies, apparently satisfied with Soundwave and Starscream’s conditions.

Starscream was still sitting in his medical berth, newly installed pedes swinging a few inches off the ground, and watching with a funny little half-smile as Moonracer attempted to give Shockwave marksmanship lessons. When he noticed Skyfire, his face went carefully blank.

“I’m back,” said Skyfire.

Starscream glanced away. “I see. I take it the meeting went well?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

“Star…”

“What?”

“I’ve missed you.”

Starscream turned back to watch Moonracer adjust the weapon in Shockwave’s servo for the tenth time.

“Have you talked to the medics?” pressed Skyfire.

“I’ve been talking to them all day,” said Starscream, his tone betraying nothing. Skyfire moved towards him, but Starscream stopped him with a servo.

“Nobody would blame you if you didn’t,” said Starscream.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Skyfire’s optics brightened with confusion and pain. “You mean the bond?”

“No one would blame you,” repeated Starscream. A few hundred meters away, Shockwave attempted to overcompensate for the recoil of his weapon and blew a rock formation to pieces.

“You don’t want to renew our bond?” asked Skyfire.

Starscream shook his helm. “I’ll only drag you down with me. Your Prime is right. You have a future…”

“And you don’t?”

“Why are you making this so hard?” Starscream finally, finally looked Skyfire in the faceplates. “Just go! You’re free, don’t you understand?”

“Do you think you’re doing me a favor?” demanded Skyfire. “My spark hurts. Doesn’t yours?”

“Of course it does.” A bitter smile. “But I’m used to it.”

“Do you think I want that for you? For us?”

Starscream looked at him, and Skyfire saw nothing but anxiety in the seeker’s faceplates. Skyfire grabbed him and held him to his own chassis.

“I. Love. You,” Skyfire whispered fiercely. “And I will never, ever let you go again.”

“I can’t…I can’t do that to you!”

Skyfire kissed him.

“He was right,” said Starscream, turning his faceplates away. “There’s nothing good left in me. It was burned away vorns ago. Get out while you can. You still have a future.”

“Without you? No. Never.” Skyfire smiled down at him, a little sadly.

“You say that now, but—”

“I mean it!”

“Because you don’t know!” yelled Starscream, inadvertently grabbing the attention of every mech and femme in the vicinity. “So shut the frag up and listen! You’ll hate me in half a vorn! But by then it will be too late, and when you can’t stand another klick of being bound to me, you’ll go back to the medics and—”

“I’d never,” said Skyfire, a little bit hurt that Starscream would think him capable of such cruelty.

“I’m not what you remember,” whispered Starscream. “I’m different now.”

“So am I,” said Skyfire.

As if to prove his point, Sunstorm chose that moment to land behind Skyfire. The impact sent clouds of dust and sand swelling up into the evening sky.


	16. Compassion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fixing what's been broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains a brief and vague description of sparkbonding. I’m sure you can handle it. If you can’t, stop reading where the kissing starts and pick up again after the scene break.
> 
> My laptop is in for repairs, so I am posting this from my tablet. I'm sorry for any errors that might result!
> 
> Also, I’ve recently become addicted to Transformers Legends. Anyone out there wanna be allies? I don’t have any friends yet!

Everyone was tired by the time they made the trip back through the space bridge and returned to Shockwave’s not-really-secret base. Skyfire’s desire to collapse onto his berth and recharge for a vorn was second only to his need to reforge his shattered sparkbond with Starscream.

He was still afraid it wouldn’t work, even though the medics assured him that there should be no problem. The whole trip back, he’d worried. What if their sparks rejected each other? What if the bond refused to form again? What if the trauma of having it forcibly broken the first time had left their sparks too weak to merge again?

But Skyfire’s spark still recognized its partner, bond or not. It had spent the entire way home twisting in impatience, aware that the object of its affection was near enough to touch. _What’s taking so long?_ it seemed to complain.

Starscream had seemed to feel it as well. Skyfire could sense him fidgeting impatiently in his hold as they traveled over the surface. He would have suggested they not waste another moment and renew the bond right there in Cybertron’s skies, had they been alone. But they were very much not alone. Powerglide and Mirage had opted to stay at the femme base, but that still left the seekers, Shockwave, Soundwave, Blaster, Perceptor, and the entire medical team in his hold.

But the seemingly-endless journey came to an end eventually. And after what felt like a lifetime, Skyfire found himself standing in the quarters that he’d begun to think of as his while Starscream looked around at everything appraisingly.

“This is terrible,” Starscream said, running his servo over the desk and picking up a fine layer of dust. “How did you live like this? The lights aren’t even--” his words ended in an offended shriek as Skyfire ran out of patience at last and swept him into his arms.

Skyfire kissed him the way he’d wanted to kiss him back in the brig, and after a moment’s hesitation Starscream returned it.

“I missed you,” whispered Skyfire. “I was so afraid I might never see you again.”

“I...Skyfire...” The words had never come easily to Starscream, not even when they were young. “I missed you too. And...I’m sorry.”

Skyfire ran a servo across Starscream’s wings. “I understand now,” he said.

Starscream shook his helm, “I should never have been angry with you. It wasn’t fair of me...”

Skyfire set him down on the berth and kissed him again. But when he reached for Starscream’s spark plating, Starscream brought his servos up, as if he wished to shield it.

“Are you sure?” Starscream asked. Skyfire tried to read his faceplates and saw only fear.

“Are you going to make me beg?” replied Skyfire.

In the end, Skyfire found that all his worrying had been for nothing. Their sparks reached for each other the moment they were exposed, merging into one in a matter of klicks.

Afterwards, Skyfire could never explain exactly what the renewed bond felt like. But the moment they joined together, the feeling of relief was instantaneous. As the connection reforged itself, the sharp and persistent pain in his chest began to melt away, vanishing to the weakest echoes before evaporating entirely. Once it was gone, Skyfire could barely remember what it had felt like. Nor did he have any desire to try.

Most importantly, he could feel Starscream’s presence again. And he could tell that the seeker was equally relieved that the bond had repaired itself so easily. There was still some anxiety and fear lurking just beneath the surface, though. Skyfire tightened his arms around his bondmate, pulling him closer still and forcing away the fear with his own joy.

::Can you hear me?:: asked Skyfire, reaching across the old link. With another euphoric rush, Skyfire realized that It felt as if it had never been gone.

::I hear you,:: came the silent response. Skyfire tilted his head downwards to press another kiss to his bondmate’s helm.

Then, still clinging to each other, they fell into recharge.

* * *

A little while later, Skyfire awoke to shouting. His optics snapped online, and it was all he could do not to bolt upright on his berth. The seeker embracing his chassis muttered and shifted a little, but kept his optics resolutely offline.

Skyfire checked his internal chronometer. It wasn’t actually that late, though it certainly felt like it.

"I had better go see what's happening," murmured Skyfire unenthusiastically when the noise did not die down after about half a breem.

"Go on, then," mumbled Starscream, not moving a micron.

"I can't. I'm trapped."

"Oh no," said Starscream, his tone making it abundantly clear that he could not have possibly cared less.

"It could be serious," said Skyfire. "What if the Autobots are attacking?"

"Then let's give them a bit longer to kill Shockwave so I don't have to do it myself later. In any case..." Starscream onlined his optics at last and lifted his helm. "It's not Autobots."

"How do you know?"

"I recognize that distinctive uneducated bellow. And the stomping of a lower-class brute of a mech who is not used to being told no." Starscream pushed himself upright, using Skyfire's chassis as a platform. "Stay here. I'll deal with this."

"No," said Skyfire. "I'm coming with you."

"You've already embarrassed me enough today," said Starscream, rubbing his forehelm. "Save some for tomorrow."

But Skyfire would not be dissuaded, and so they ventured into the too-bright hallway together. And Starscream was, as it turned out, correct in his assessment that Autobots were not responsible for the noise. Instead, it was Megatron who was making his way down the hallway, while Shockwave followed behind him, speaking rapidly.

"I was not responsible for any of it!" cried Shockwave. "Sunstorm was integrated into the Sentinel without my knowledge, and the treaty certainly wasn't my doing--"

"You expect me to believe a project of such magnitude was carried out without your knowledge?" yelled Megatron.

Shockwave went silent. Then he spotted Skyfire and pointed with his gun-arm. "Him! It was all his fault!"

"How kind of you to join us at last, my lord," sneered Starscream, pushing past Skyfire and raising his wings defensively. "Did you walk here?"

"What's this about a cease-fire?" asked Megatron, waving a datapad around.

"Are you asking me what a cease-fire is, or are you asking me the terms of said cease-fire?" drawled Starscream.

"I'm in no mood for your insolence!"

"I would think you'd be grateful for the treaty," said Skyfire. "Your energon reserves are dangerously low, and all your soldiers are in the stockades. You cannot go on fighting. You won't survive."

"And I also want this Autobot out of here," Megatron informed Shockwave.

“He’s the reason we’re all free right now,” objected Starscream.

“I don’t care. He is a traitor, and I have a strict ‘no pets’ policy.”

"He has been...useful, my lord," said Shockwave, very reluctantly. "Perhaps we could make an exception."

"Shockwave, you like him?" said Starscream in surprise. Then he turned to Skyfire, "You're dead to me."

"What, again?" asked Skyfire mildly.

“He’s a great deal less irritating than you!” retorted Shockwave. “My lord, if I might make a suggestion? We should keep the shuttle and throw Starscream out.”

“Just try!” shrieked Starscream.

"If it means that much to you, I'll go quietly,” Skyfire told Megatron. “You'll never see me again. But I feel that it is only fair to warn you that Sunstorm will find it far more difficult to interface with the Sentinel's systems after I am gone."

"You tampered with it?" demanded Shockwave.

"It's my design," said Skyfire. "So technically, nothing I do to it is 'tampering.' But I did make some alterations to the controls after I realized that someone might be tempted to use it for their own purposes."

“My lord, I wish to alter my suggestion,” Shockwave informed Megatron. “Throw them both out.”

Heavy but measured footsteps sounded from behind them. Everyone turned to look as Soundwave approached the group, looking quite irate. Nobody had replaced his battle mask or visor yet, so his emotions were plastered on his faceplates for the world to see. When he spoke, his voice lacked its usual monotone.

“Symbiotes: In recharge,” said Soundwave reproachfully.

Skyfire knew that multiple scathing comebacks were forming in Starscream’s processor. But his bondmate was oddly silent. Normally, Starscream would have no problem throwing insults at the communications officer. But something was different this time, Skyfire could sense it. Was this sudden compassion born of sympathy for Soundwave’s recent loss, or simply an aftereffect of having shared sparks so recently? Skyfire could not say for certain.

“My apologies,” said Skyfire, when he felt the awkward silence had gone on long enough. “We will continue this conversation at a reasonable hour.”

“I’m not done with you,” said Megatron. “You are a traitor to both factions. I see no reason to allow you to stay here.”

“Then I will go,” said Skyfire. “But my being gone won’t change anything. You have two options: peace, or enslavement. Winning the war isn’t going to happen, not with your levels of energon depletion. And the Autobots won’t kill your soldiers, I know them well enough to promise that. They will turn them into slaves, and it will be on your spark.”

“Don’t pretend you care about the freedom of my soldiers!” shouted Megatron. “I am not blind. You’d take him and flee if you could, and leave the rest of us to rust.”

“This is not about my personal life,” objected Starscream.

“Isn’t it?” Megatron gave a dark laugh and met Skyfire’s optics at last. "You and all the other Autobots here can leave now, freely, or be escorted out."

“Excuse me," said Starscream icily. "If it wasn’t for Skyfire, we would all still be in the Ark."

“I think it would be wise to allow Perceptor to stay, if he wishes,” added Shockwave. “Just a suggestion, my lord.”

“Autobot Blaster: Helpful in the rehabilitation of my symbiotes,” said Soundwave.

The expression on Megatron’s faceplates now reminded Skyfire of the humans on the television, shortly before they became aware that they had been the victims of a surreal and elaborate prank.

Skyfire almost felt sorry for him.


	17. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the living will of Primus learns an important life lesson about hitting on other people's husbands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I am so sorry that I haven't updated in a week or two. I just started a new job, so I am adjusting to the schedule. Thanks for sticking with me!

Prowl placed the last stack of datapads in the storage container. Then he sealed it and set it in the corner with the others, all labeled ‘disposal.’

“Can we talk?” asked Jazz. Prowl looked up. The other mech was standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

Prowl opened his desk drawer and began to rifle through it, as if looking for more errant datapads. It was a facade, though. Prowl never misplaced a datapad. 

“About what?” Prowl asked at last.

Jazz came around to Prowl’s side of the desk and closed the drawer, forcefully. “Depends. Where do you wanna start?”

Prowl looked away.

“You’re gonna have to face it eventually,” said Jazz. “Frag it, mech, you think I don’t know how you’re feeling? I was there in the brig with you after...after the cassette died. The soldiers, they think you’ve got no guilt. They think nothing sticks to you. But I know you’re not a drone, Prowl.”

“I’m not sorry,” said Prowl.

“Sure you ain’t,” said Jazz. “Realizing you’d gone too far and killed a prisoner...a prisoner who was legally a sparkling...that didn’t affect you for one klick, did it? And when you switched off your battle computer and the first thing you saw was Soundwave, _Soundwave_ , crying—”

“Get out!” yelled Prowl.

“—that didn’t affect you one bit!”

“Correct!”

“Liar,” said Jazz softly. “You don’t fool me, Prowler. How’d it feel when Blaster came in and saw the frame? And when he looked at you? What’d you see in his optics?”

“You have made your point!”

“No I haven’t,” said Jazz. “Because then, after that, everything you did to fix it only drove more soldiers away and you still want me to believe that you’re not sorry.”

Prowl turned away quickly, almost smacking Jazz in the face with his doorwings in the process. “What do you want me to say, then?” he asked, his vocalizer filling with static.

“The truth,” said Jazz. “You fragged up. Admit it.”

“And then?” demanded Prowl.

“Then we forgive each other and move forward,” said Jazz. 

Prowl turned back to stare at Jazz as if he’d spoken in another language. “Are you mocking me?”

“Primus. No.” Jazz shook his helm. “I’m trying to help you. You think I like seeing you this way?”

“You would...still have me, then?” asked Prowl, looking doubtful.

“Yeah,” said Jazz, “I think so.”

Prowl glanced at his terminal screen. On it was the text of the treaty that Skyfire had drafted. He’d been putting off reviewing it, even though he knew Prime would be expecting him to come up with suggestions in time for the first meeting with the Decepticon commanders.

A clean end to the war. An easy end to the war. It had been within arm’s reach only a few solar cycles ago. What had happened?

How had everything gone so wrong?

"I haven't yet forgiven myself," said Prowl at last.

"One step at a time," encouraged Jazz. "And we've got all the time in the world."

* * *

“Someone ripped off Sunstorm’s arm and kicked him down the emergency staircase,” said Skyfire, coming into the lab.

“How odd,” said Starscream, not even looking up from his energon cube. He’d been playing around with the refiner that Skyfire had improved; his tools were still scattered across the workbench.

“You want to tell me what this is about?” asked Skyfire.

“Not particularly.” Starscream swirled the liquid around and stared at the dusty lab shelves with unseeing optics.

Skyfire shook his helm, “Starscream, he’s harmless.”

“Hm.”

Skyfire scooped his bondmate into his arms, earning a squawk of objection.

“You’re jealous,” he murmured into Starscream’s audial.

“I am not. I just don’t like the way he fawns all over you. Put me down.”

Skyfire set the seeker back in his seat. “And if he’d decided to fight back? He could have killed you.”

“He never killed the damn Rainmakers, and they’ve done far worse to him,” said Starscream, picking his half-spilled cube back up. "That's probably Shockwave's influence. No spinal struts whatsoever."

“Don’t do it again,” said Skyfire. 

For a moment, Starscream looked like he was going to laugh in Skyfire’s faceplates. But then he seemed to realize that Skyfire was serious.

“Fine,” said Starscream at last, his pride obviously bruised. “He’s your problem now.”

Skyfire still felt more than a bit guilty, so he went down to visit Sunstorm in the medbay. It had turned out that Megatron had not arrived at the base alone last night. With him were the three other femme medics who had gone missing when the Autobots took Shockwave’s tower. Skyfire hadn’t caught their names, but Panacea, Countermeasure, and Anodyne were ecstatic to have their teammates back.

Sunstorm had been given a private room, away from the noise and activity of the main medbay. Even with one arm detached, he was in a rather good mood. Being fussed over six pretty femmes could do that to a mech, Skyfire supposed. 

Sunstorm wouldn’t talk about how he lost his arm, only saying, “I fell down the stairs” when pressed. This ended up working in Sunstorm’s favor, however, because it made Skyfire feel guilty enough to listen to him talk about Primus for almost a whole cycle.

Skyfire was in the middle of inventing a new, ridiculously overcomplicated formula to compute prime numbers in his processor when Acid Storm walked in. The green seeker looked mortified when he realized Skyfire was standing beside Sunstorm’s berth, and it only took Skyfire a moment to realize why. In one servo, Acid Storm carried a rather impressive crystal bouquet. Skyfire had just enough time to wonder where on Cybertron Acid Storm had found such a thing (as Skyfire had not seen a single living crystal growth in the last few solar cycles) before Acid Storm mumbled something, set the crystals down on the berthside counter, and bolted from the medbay.

Sunstorm was thrilled at the gift, and it distracted him enough for Skyfire to finally make his escape. He ducked out of the little room and headed for the main area of the medbay, moving with quick, long strides in case Sunstorm suddenly changed his mind and called him back.

That was when Skyfire noticed the open doorway, and the figure within. It was Soundwave, with his back to the door, looking down a something on a berth. 

Skyfire had almost forgotten. Elita had arrived early that solar cycle, carrying two tiny bundles of soft white mesh blankets in her arms, each nestled into the crook of her elbow. At first, Skyfire had thought she might have brought more supplies. It was a few klicks before Skyfire realized that she had come to deliver the offline frames of Rumble and Frenzy.

Skyfire was just wondering if he could possibly tiptoe away without Soundwave noticing when the other mech spoke.

“Stay,” said Soundwave faintly, not turning around. 

“I am...I am sorry,” said Skyfire, stepping inside. Now he could see that the two tiny frames were laid out side-by-side, their colors drained away to the ashy pallor of death.

Soundwave turned to face Skyfire and retracted his battlemask. And when he spoke, it was with his normal voice.

“You have my gratitude,” Soundwave said, surprising Skyfire. He hadn’t known the mech was capable of regular speech patterns. “Starscream and I disagree on many things. But if it had not been for Blaster’s presence in the brig that night, my other symbiotes might not have survived.”

Skyfire just nodded, unsure of what to say. Soundwave turned back to his creations’ frames and reached out to caress each of their faceplates in turn.

“Will you be remaining with us?” asked Soundwave after a moment.

“I think so,” said Skyfire.

Soundwave nodded and snapped his battlemask closed again. “I recommend you be wary,” he said, his voice robotic and mechanical once again, though his speech patterns remained normal. “Skywarp and Thundercracker have been openly plotting against you in anticipation of a betrayal.”

“I had a feeling,” said Skyfire, rubbing his forehelm. “I was hoping we had moved past that.”

Soundwave actually laughed, a strange sound when it was coming from an automatic synthesizer. "If there is anything you require..."

"I should be the one saying that to you," said Skyfire.

Soundwave tilted his helm in acknowledgement. "Perhaps. But my offer stands."

"I appreciate it," said Skyfire. He knew that Soundwave seldom allowed himself to be indebted to anyone. And he didn't want to take advantage of a grieving carrier (even though logic told him that Soundwave was probably perfectly aware of what he offered, despite the turmoil that must be tearing at his spark). Either way, Soundwave was a powerful ally to have. His support might make the difference between Skyfire being allowed to stay with the Decepticon forces and being thrown out onto the streets of Kaon.

Starscream was not going to be pleased.


	18. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peace talks begin.

The entire central district of Iacon had been brought online for the peace talks. When Skyfire and the other Decepticons arrived, it was hard for them not to be impressed. It had been so long since anyone had seen a living Cybertronian city. Even though the streets were still deserted and most of the buildings were still bombed out, the sight of the Senatorial Palace at full power was remarkable.

Soundwave wasn’t letting his cassettes roam very far from himself, but he did let them out to see the restored palace. It didn’t take them long to invent a game involving skidding across the polished crystal floor mosaics. 

“Unusual choice of location,” muttered Shockwave as they stepped into the main hall. “I dislike whatever message they are attempting to send us.”

“I killed one Prime in these halls. I have no objection to doing it again,” replied Megatron. 

“I know you like to brag about that, but maybe you shouldn’t mention it at the meeting?” said Starscream.

“Starscream here has never bragged about anything, ever,” explained Skywarp, expertly dodging a punch. The two looked like they were about to start sparring, so Skyfire carefully pulled them apart. Thundercracker just shook his helm.

A freshly painted and polished Elita came and greeted them, which put an end to any bragging or fistfights. She explained that the meeting would be held in the old Senate’s public conference hall, the gigantic open space where mechs and femmes had once come to watch their Senators issue important decisions.

There was a little bit of time left, so Skyfire decided to try and find Wheeljack or Ratchet. He was wondering how they were doing, and also wanted to ask them how they’d brought the palace online so quickly. He didn’t notice when Starscream wandered away, and when he realized he was alone, he didn’t think too much of it. How much trouble could Starscream get himself into in two breems?

Skyfire found Ratchet and Wheeljack both down in the power supply room, along with Hoist and Grapple. They were all working furiously to keep one large generator online. After a moment’s hesitation, Skyfire gave a soft knock on the doorframe.

Wheeljack turned his helm towards the sound, and his optics lit with happiness. But it was Ratchet who dropped his tools and went rushing over. 

“It’s good to see you again,” said Ratchet. Then he shook his helm and lowered his voice until it was barely audible over the hum of the generator. “Primus, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” said Skyfire. “I…we both…we aren’t angry. How have you been?”

“I couldn’t refuse,” said Ratchet in a pained voice. “I tried. If I hadn’t done it, Red Alert was going to—”

“I know,” soothed Skyfire. “I know. Ratchet, I’m not angry at you. You’re my friend. And Star doesn’t hate you either—well, no more than he hates anyone else.”

“I was afraid he’d die and take you with him and I’d never have a chance to apologize,” said Ratchet. He looked as if this had been troubling him deeply for the last few solar cycles.

“But he didn’t, because you took care of him,” Skyfire reminded him. “And I imagine he made it as difficult as possible.”

“He tried to throw a filing cabinet at my helm,” said Ratchet, managing a small smile.

“Well, that’s a new one,” granted Skyfire. 

::We’re starting soon,:: Starscream called over the bond. ::Where are you? You’d better come up before all the good spots are gone.:: 

Skyfire sent a little pulse of acknowledgement and started the journey back up to the hall. Luckily, he didn’t get too lost, and returned to the group just in time to see Starscream’s face twist in a sneer before he turned made a scathing remark to Megatron.

For Skyfire to say he hadn't been waiting for this moment would be an outright lie. In fact, if he _hadn't_ been waiting for it, then he would never have been fast enough to rush forward and catch Megatron's arm in midair, just before he struck Starscream across the faceplates with his open servo.

At first, Megatron was too stunned to react. He appeared to be still processing what had just happened. Then he looked down at Skyfire’s large servo, which was still wrapped quite firmly around his arm. Then he looked back up at Skyfire with rage-filled optics and Skyfire realized with a sort of distant panic that he might not have thought this all the way through. 

He couldn’t back down, not without losing what little respect the Decepticons had for him. But if he didn’t…well, this was one fight he probably wouldn’t win. He had once thrown Megatron, but that had been a bad day. 

Fortunately, that was when Primus decided to intervene. From the next room over, Firestar chose that moment to hurl Red Alert through the adjoining wall with all her strength.

Flat on his back, Red Alert onlined his optics. Then he immediately offined them again when he saw the entire Decepticon high command staring down at him in confusion. 

There was a clattering sound as Firestar pushed her way through the hole she’d made in the wall. Red Alert scrambled backwards on his servos and pedes to get away from her. 

“Firestar!” yelled Inferno, trying to follow her but the hole was not large enough to accommodate more than his arm, which waved around ineffectually. “We need to talk about this—get back here—don’t—”

Skyfire (who had immediately released Megatron’s arm) wondered if he should do something. None of the other Decepticons had moved. Instead, they watched the unfolding drama like it was one of those human television shows. 

Luckily for Red Alert, Ironhide and Jazz rushed in through the doors a moment later. Each grabbed one of Firestar’s arms and struggled to drag her away. She almost succeeded in flipping Jazz over her shoulder, which earned a few appreciate murmurs from the spectators. 

Inferno hurried in and wasted no time wedging his frame between Firestar and Red Alert. He didn’t say anything, but the way he gestured made it clear that he and Firestar were having some sort of conversation over private comms—or perhaps even a sparkbond.

Firestar wrenched one of her arms free so that she could gesture towards Red Alert to make some kind of point. Inferno raised his servos in the same pacifying gesture that Skyfire often used on Starscream.

Firestar seemed to deflate a little bit, her righteous anger giving way to embarrassment. Jazz and Ironhide slowly released her arms just as Elita ran in. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” she yelled at them. “Infighting at a peace conference! I should put all three of you in the brig!”

“She started it!” protested Red Alert.

“I don’t care who started it!” For someone with a small frame, Elita could certainly bellow like a drill sergeant when she wanted to. “Kill each other on your own time! You’re all supposed to be on security detail! If you’re still here in five klicks, I’ll give your jobs to someone more competent!”

Subdued, the three Autobots trudged out. Jazz shook his helm. “Sorry you all had to see that,” he said, before following after them. 

Skyfire decided it was time to be out of Megatron’s striking range, and went to find himself a spot that would give him a clear view of the proceedings. As he was not an officer, he wouldn’t actually be taking part in the talks unless someone specifically called him up.

::That was quite a coincidence, just now,:: Skyfire sent over the bond.

::Sorry?:: said Starscream, doing a pretty good impersonation of someone who had no idea what Skyfire was talking about. 

::Firestar. Starting a brawl two klicks after you insulted Megatron.::

::What?:: said Starscream. Skyfire glanced towards the front of the room, where his bondmate was selecting a seat. ::You think I noticed that you’ve been watching Megatron like a cyberhawk, waiting for him to try something with me, and concluded that you were planning on doing something idiotic? And so I deliberately told Firestar—lovely femme, by the way—how thrilled Red Alert had been to break our bond and then immediately goaded Megatron into hitting me so that when you retaliated, there would be a diversion?:: He smiled, brightly. ::That would be very clever of me, now wouldn’t it?::

* * *

The very first meeting did not actually last long. One of Megatron’s terms was that his forces be set free before negotiations proceeded any further. In return, Prime forced him to agree to a formal cease-fire, lasting half a vorn at minimum.

Skyfire was worried that Megatron would violate the terms as soon as he was able, but he reminded himself that the Decepticons were still in the middle of an energon crisis. If Megatron did try something, it wouldn’t be for a while. And he was pretty sure he could coax Sunstrom back into piloting the Sentinel if he needed to.

After that agreement was reached, everyone was dismissed for a joor-long recess while the Autobots saw to getting the prisoners discharged. Skyfire went and found himself an empty room—he needed to think. But the room had a couch, and it was a rather convenient size. No thinking happened. Instead, he fell into a light recharge.

About a cycle or two later, he was awoken by Starscream smacking his shoulder. 

“Get up, there’s no room for me,” complained the seeker. He was holding a datapad.

“How did it go?” asked Skyfire.

“I don’t know. It’s still happening. I just made sure my fliers were freed.” 

Skyfire moved into a sitting-up position, “And then you left?”

“It was boring! All paperwork!” Starscream sat beside him, pressing his frame in close. “Frag if I care about the stupid grounders—” He flipped the datapad on, and the screen lit up. “Fragging end of the war. Fragging Autobots. Fragging treaties. I don’t see why I have to review every damn thing, isn’t that what Shockwave is for?” Starscream scowled at the datapad in his hand. 

“Mmm,” agreed Skyfire, stroking the seeker’s wings idly.

“I don’t see why I should have to suffer just because Megatron is functionally illiterate.”

“Mmhm.” His fingers teased a wingtip, which flicked out of his reach momentarily before settling again. 

“Can you stop distracting me? I need to have this read by the next meeting.”

“I shouldn’t have to point out that you’re sitting on me.”

“I shouldn’t have to point out that you are perfectly capable of keeping your servos to yourself.” Starscream scowled. “This is your fault, you know.”

“‘Thank you, Skyfire, for rescuing me and all my sociopath friends,’” said Skyfire to the ceiling.

“What do you want, a fragging medal?”

“‘I’m sure making the decision to leave your faction and aid the enemy was a great ethical struggle.’”

“You chose to rescue your bondmate of approximately sixty thousand vorns, may Primus forgive you.”

“‘And let me just say that modified Guardian was an amazing piece of engineering. Ingenious, really.’”

“I can find another warm spot.” But Skyfire could see the tiniest hint of a smile at the edge of Starscream’s mouth.

“‘Also, thank you for single-handedly ending the Great War just for me. I’m almost not embarrassed to be seen in public with you.’”

Starscream gave up, pressing his face to Skyfire’s neck and dissolving into a fit of helpless laughter.

“Love you,” whispered Skyfire. Starscream lifted his helm again to study Skyfire’s faceplates.

“If you ever leave me again,” murmured Starscream at last, one servo running down Skyfire’s plating, “I will run a blade through your spark, do you understand me?”

“I missed you too.”

Starscream nodded, apparently satisfied, and went back to his reading. The room went quiet again, though not for long. After only a few breems of peace, the doors flew open and the entire Aerialbot team swarmed in, yelling in their special mix of English and Standard Iaconian.

“Skyfire!” shouted Air Raid, clambering up onto Skyfire’s shoulder. “Were you at the meeting? We missed it! We flew around the city! It’s amazing! There’s no air here! Did you know that? So when you fly, it’s all—”

“Powerglide’s being an ass because he got to hang out with you and Shockwave and we didn’t,” complained Slingshot. “He even said there were Decepticon girls, but we’re pretty sure he’s lying.”

“He’s been an Earth pack mammal?” asked Starscream, confused. 

“He’s always an Earth pack mammal,” sighed Skydive, squeezing onto the couch beside Skyfire. “Tell us about how you broke into the Ark and let all the prisoners go?”

_“Get rid of them,”_ Starscream whistled in Vosian.

“What did he say?” asked Air Raid. “I bet it wasn’t nice.”

Ramjet had once rather impolitely referred to the Aerialbots as grounder sparks in air frames. The fact that the Aerialbots hadn’t gone blind with rage upon hearing this insult only seemed to prove it true. Even Skyfire had been embarrassed for them then.

They flew like children, enthusiastic but graceless. They spoke English better than they spoke Standard, and when the seekers tried to banter with them in what should have been their native language, they all just stared blankly. They knew nothing but war, they knew nothing of war. They didn't know why they were fighting, or even that there once had been something to fight for.

They had no identity. They'd never seen spires and balconies and towers, never felt the sting of prejudice, never had racial slurs graffitied onto their wings. 

But they had no real hatred for the Decepticons, either.

Skyfire was saved from having to answer when Skywarp teleported himself and Thundercracker into the room.

“Woah! Babies!” said Skywarp. 

“We’re not babies!” complained Slingshot. 

“Course you’re not!” yelled Skywarp, pinching Slingshot’s cheek. “Primus, TC, aren’t they the cutest? I’m so glad I don’t have to shoot you anymore. Let’s adopt one!”

“I don’t think that’s a thing that’s going to happen, Warp,” said Thundercracker heavily.

“No way it’ll be great! We’ll teach them to talk and get them decent alt-modes and…and whatever else it is you’re supposed to do with sparklets.”

“I can see you’re off to a fantastic start,” drawled Starscream, over the Aerialbots’ protests that they weren’t sparklets and what was wrong with their altmodes, exactly? 

“Shut it, Screamer! I bet there’s datapads that tell you what to do. It can’t be that hard.”

“How do you intend to teach them our language when you’re barely literate yourself?”

“Oh shut up, will you? Like you’re any better!”

Starscream was outraged at that. “I was kicked out of the finest scientific community on Cybertron, thank you very much!”

“You were kicked out? For what?” asked Silverbolt.

“I murdered him,” said Starscream, tilting his helm in Skyfire’s direction. Silverbolt went silent with confusion. Skyfire said nothing. 

He’d just remembered something.

* * *

It wasn’t a particularly long walk to the Acadamy ruins. They could have flown, but Skyfire wasn’t exactly in a hurry. Starscream said nothing, only followed behind him, radiating anxiety and reluctance.

Skyfire kept his side of the bond quiet as he gazed out at the remains of what had once been one of Iacon’s most famous landmarks. 

“I lied when I told Prime I wasn’t sorry,” said Starscream at last, from somewhere behind him. “I…I wasn’t myself when I did this. I haven’t been myself in…” he shook his helm. “I know that’s not a good excuse. But it’s all I’ve got.”

“Did you think I wanted this?” whispered Skyfire, not turning around.

“No!” cried Starscream. Skyfire heard Starscream's pedesteps draw nearer, felt him pushing at his spark, begging…for what? “It wasn’t like that! I wasn’t…no. It wasn’t for you. It was for me. I thought destroying this place might make it all hurt less. But it didn’t. Afterwards, I just felt…empty. And you were still gone.”

Skyfire could feel his own frame trembling. And from Starscream’s side of the bond, he could sense panic and fear. If Skyfire rejected him now, it could very well send Starscream right back down the path he’d been on when he’d ordered this.

“I knew you’d have hated me for it,” whispered Starscream, pressing against Skyfire’s plating. “But you were dead. And I was alive, even though I was sure my spark would flicker out soon enough. I wanted to die. But I never did.”

He knew Starscream was waiting for Skyfire to grant him something—forgiveness, or a reassurance, perhaps. 

“I’ll…I’ll rebuild it,” said Starscream when Skyfire remained quiet. “Skyfire, I swear I will. It won’t bring them back, but…” his voice seemed to break. “I was right. You see? You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” said Skyfire, looking down at last. Bright pink tears were gathering in crimson optics. He reached out and carefully brushed them away. “I could never hate you.”

“This isn’t the worst of it,” said Starscream. “There’s other cities, other worlds—even when I didn’t lead the attacks, I helped draw the plans. Everything the Autobots have told you about me is probably true because they don’t need to lie. There’s more. There will always be more.”

“No,” whispered Skyfire, cupping Starscream’s faceplates in both his hands. “Never again. I promise.”


	19. Armistice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A treaty about writing a treaty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's almost done! This has been so much fun, you guys. I wasn't expecting my first fic to get so much feedback.

The negotiations picked up again a cycle later. With the newly-freed prisoners, the room was significantly more crowded. Skyfire was forced to stand in the back with the triple-changers so that the smaller Cybertronians had a fair chance to see what was going on.

At first Skyfire had been nervous with Astrotrain and Blitzwing so close by, but he quickly found that the two were actually quite laid-back. Skyfire had always thought of them as dumb and violent, and in fact had disliked them because they appeared to embody every negative Golden Age stereotype about transport-class mechs. But he actually had a very pleasant (if somewhat tense) conversation with Astrotrain about the pain of being used almost exclusively as a transport vehicle by one’s faction.

Blitzwing was…less capable of carrying on a conversation and in fact appeared to be suffering from some sort of traumatic processor injury. But, when asked, Starscream silently assured Skyfire that he’d always been like that.

Then the meeting began in earnest, putting a stop to any side conversations. Now that the last of the prisoners were freed, the topic shifted to post-war life. Revitalizing Cybertron was priority now, but it was unclear where they should begin.

The Autobots were all in favor of bringing Iacon fully online—at least until Shockwave demanded to know what would stop the Autobots from throwing the Decepticons out after construction was complete.

“If we withdraw to separate halves of the globe, it will only foster more intolerance,” said Elita. “It will take little effort to provoke another war.”

“And if we all live in the same city, it will take even less,” said Megatron dryly.

“Suggestion: Construct new city in neutral territory.” It was the first time Soundwave had spoken all day.

“Our engineers have already begun work here,” said Prime. “To ask them to start over—”

“That’s your own fault, not ours!” snapped Starscream. But despite this brave façade, Skyfire could tell Star was torn. Iacon had been their home for their entire academic careers. But it also held painful memories for many war-builds. He knew Star wanted to go home to Vos, and the other fliers probably would as well. But the population was so low, there was probably not much point in trying to simultaneously revive multiple cities. Not yet, anyway.

Not much more progress was made, though Jazz had suggested letting everyone, including the soldiers, vote on where the new city should be constructed. It was a very human idea, and Skyfire was not completely sure that he approved of uneducated mechs being allowed to have a say in the fate of the planet. But he kept this opinion to himself.

The meeting came to an abrupt halt when more Cybertronians arrived. Apparently a contingent of Autobot and Decepticon forces had been locked in combat off-planet until only recently, when they received news of the cease-fire.

The two commanders and their forces arrived together. Skyfire recognized Ultra Magnus at the front of the crowd, but not the black-and-red Decepticon femme beside him. She pitched an impressive fit when she was told she couldn’t bring her weapon inside the palace.

::Flamewar,:: explained Starscream silently. ::I was hoping she was dead. She hates me. I slapped her once.::

::You shouldn’t slap femmes,:: said Skyfire.

::What? Why not?::

::I don’t know,:: admitted Skyfire. ::It’s just something that the humans say a lot.::

::What do they know? The human population is over fifty percent femmes! You can’t tell me that’s natural. Look, that’s her second-in-command, Nightracer. She also hates me. And Ultra Magnus. Have you met him? He also hates me. Just assume everyone hates me unless I say otherwise.::

Another break was called so that the newcomers could be accommodated. That was when Swindle sidled up to Skyfire (out of nowhere) and asked if he was really bonded to Starscream.

“Well, yes,” replied Skyfire without really thinking about it.

“You’re a pal, mech, a real pal.” Swindle grinned and attempted to elbow him in the chassis, but their size difference meant that he hit Skyfire’s knee instead. Unabashed, the little Combaticon scurried off in the direction of a rather large group of Decepticons, who were obviously trying their hardest to look casual.

“HE SAID YES!” yelled Swindle.

The announcement received groans and cheers alike, followed by an alarming quantity of credits and cubes changing servos.

“What did you just do?” asked Starscream, coming up behind Skyfire quietly.

“I think we’ve been the subject of a long-running bet,” said Skyfire.

“Oh, yes, that,” said Starscream dismissively. Apparently Ramjet had made out the best of all the mechs in the pool, because he subspaced a stack of at least ten cubes and then grinned at Skyfire as if the mech had done him a great favor.

“Wait, what’s a sparkbond?” asked Dead End, and suddenly everyone remembered places that they had to be.

* * *

From what Skyfire could see, the mood around the palace was remarkably upbeat. The Constructicons had even started helping Wheeljack and the other engineers make repairs without being asked. He couldn’t tell if this was a gesture of peace or just scientific curiosity, but when he stopped by to check on them, he could hear friendly laughter. Upstairs, in one of the disused rooms, someone had found an immense and ancient crystal harp. A large crowd had quickly gathered to watch Soundwave and Jazz play a duet.

Now, the Aerialbots chased each other across Cybertron’s eternal night, weaving around half-crumbled skyscrapers like the entire city was an obstacle course. At each new discovery (an old mosaic, the remains of an open-air marketplace, a turbofox scavenging in the shadows) they shouted to each other over open comms.

“They should really be in recharge,” murmured Starscream in Skyfire’s audial. The pair had found a quiet spot on top of one of the old signal towers to curl up together. “Primus, that had better not be the guardian programming talking. I’ll shoot myself in the helm.”

“Someone will need to take care of them,” said Skyfire. “They may be fully-formatted, but I don’t think they’re capable of living like adults just yet.”

“Tch! They’d probably starve to death,” said Starscream. “Who looks after them now?”

“Wheeljack and Ratchet, for the most part,” said Skyfire. “But the Dinobots take up most of Wheeljack’s attention, and Ratchet spends more time with the Protectobots. I was usually required in the science wing, so I could never give them the attention they needed.”

“I have no business raising sparklets,” muttered Starscream, offlining his optics. “I know where you’re going with this. The answer is no. Don’t even bother trying to convince me.”

“Why not?” asked Skyfire.

“The Aerialbots? They hate me, first of all.”

“They do not,” said Skyfire. Down on the ground, something gold caught his optic—Sunstorm and Acid Storm, exploring the grounds together. “They _idolize_ you. They think you’re amazing. I heard something about autographs.”

“Oh, that.” Starscream gave a hint of a smile. “I forgot about that. That was…cute.”

He spoke the last word softly, as if ashamed of it. Skyfire couldn’t help but lean over to kiss the delicate silver-grey wires on Starscream’s throat, the ones that hid the protoform malformation that caused Star’s vocalizer so much trouble.

“They also need to be educated,” muttered Starscream to himself. “They need proper flight lessons. Language. Literature. History. Science. Music.”

“I didn’t realize we’d be reopening the Academy so soon,” said Skyfire with a smile.

“All the younger mechs need to be educated. Primus knows the Stunticons need to be educated.” In the sky above them, Silverbolt barely managed to not collide with an old tower beacon. Starscream frowned at this. “How did he become their leader?”

“Prime ordered it.” Skyfire braced himself for the screech.

“Prime _what_!?”

“I know, I know,” said Skyfire.

“Are you telling me there was no challenge made?”

“None,” said Skyfire.

Starscream fell silent in disbelief. Skyfire hadn’t been there to see it for himself, but he knew that Starscream must have beaten Thundercracker and Skywarp in combat to become their wingleader. He’d probably fought Ramjet as well for the title of Air Commander as well.

“But then how…why…?”

“Try not to think about it,” advised Skyfire.

Starscream went quiet again. Skyfire could sense that he was falling into recharge. He opened up a comm to the Aerialbots.

[Recharge, now,] said Skyfire firmly.

A chorus of whines and groans were the response, but the Aerialbots didn’t argue. A few klicks later, the sky was silent and peaceful.

::Skyfire?:: asked Starscream. Skyfire glanced back down at him. His optics were offline.

::Yes?::

::Do you love me?::

Skyfire was surprised. ::Of course I do!::

::Then do _not_ call me ‘Star’ in front of the troops.::

* * *

_For the purpose of seeking a permanent end to our Great War, the Autobot and Decepticon factions will suspend aggressive actions for one hundred vorns. Terms of a lasting peace will be negotiated by representatives from both factions. After a peace treaty is agreed upon, it will be followed by open elections to appoint peacetime lawmakers._

_This armistice has been called with the understanding that legal measures must be taken to prevent the inequalities that plagued the Golden Age and led to the outbreak of the Great War. Formal efforts must also be made to encourage soldiers of both factions towards coexistence until such a time comes that mechs no longer identify as their wartime factions, but as a single Cybertronian species._

There wasn’t anything in there about Sunstorm incinerating everyone if the negotiations fell through. That, Skyfire felt, was implied.

The footage of Megatron and Prime signing the armistice was going to be sent out to all the neutral settlements immediately. Nobody was sure what the reaction would be, though Prowl had speculated it would be something along the lines of ‘stunned silence’.

As it was, the atmosphere in the room was so tense that Skyfire was afraid a fight would break out if someone so much as shuffled his pedes.

::Scared?:: asked Skyfire.

::Of course not,:: Starscream snapped. He was clutching Skyfire’s servo so hard that Skyfire could feel the dent beginning to form. Skyfire didn’t care. He could spend the next hundred vorns like this, if it meant Starscream was beside him.

Finally, Prime set his stylus down, and the room relaxed. There was no cheering. Everyone appeared to be too shocked, even though they’d all known what they were coming to witness.

Now the other officers were coming up to add their signatures. Starscream released Skyfire’s servo at last and walked to the front of the room.

Skyfire glanced across the crowd. Every mech and femme he’d met since waking up from the ice (and more than a few strangers) were in attendance. Even the Aerialbots, who had been openly bored by the negotiations, had come to watch—though probably at Ratchet and Wheeljack’s insistence. Their group was mixed with the Protectobots and the Stunticons alike. Apparently the young combiners were getting along quite well.

Skyfire did a quick radiation sweep to locate Sunstorm. Sensors showed that he was perched on the edge of the viewing balcony above, just out of sight. Another standard sweep showed that there was another seeker sitting beside him.

::Starscream,:: said Skyfire.

::Yes?::

::Please refrain from attempting to trip Shockwave so that he falls off the stage.::

::It would have been hilarious,:: sulked Starscream, but he pulled his casually-in-the-way pede back and the rest of the signatures were made without incident.


	20. Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyfire ruins everyone's weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are. I hardly know what to say, except thank you to all my lovely readers and commenters and everyone who helped me through my tight spots. This has been such a wonderful welcome into the fandom, and I hope to speak to at least some of you again soon.

The Autobot commanders hadn’t wanted the impressionable Aerialbots in the hands of an ex-enemy officer and his equally traitorous bondmate (though they never openly admitted this). But the fact remained that there were no other fliers willing to look after such a large group. Thundercracker had remained steadfast in his assertion that he would not be able to handle five younglings _and_ Skywarp full-time, and none of the other Decepticon trines were looking to adopt. In the end, Skyfire and Starscream weren’t just the logical choice. They were the only choice.

Things had been a bit awkward at first, Skyfire would not deny that. He and Starscream had been forced to put an end to their irregular schedules and unhealthy refueling habits in order to set a good example. And then there had been the time Starscream had accidentally reduced Silverbolt to tears during flight practice. The seeker had been mortified and fled the scene, leaving his wingmates to finish the lesson. Then he’d barricaded himself in his lab for three solar cycles straight.

But it had been a learning experience nonetheless, and Skyfire did not regret a moment. On a larger scale, life was improving for everyone. The death of Soundwave’s twins had made the Autobots more open to acknowledging the prejudices that had hurt the Decepticons in the past. And while the Decepticons had been skeptical at first, it was difficult to resist an aggressively friendly Autobot for very long.

Some prejudices were slower to die. The Neutrals who had cautiously crept back home when it became clear that the treaty was not an elaborate prank still harbored a great deal of resentment towards the mechs who had once been warriors. One day, Skydive had come home from the newly-opened library shaking with confusion and just barely biting back tears. When he finally repeated the ugly words that the neutral strangers had thrown at him, he did not see the way Starscream’s faceplates went dark with rage because the seeker was already cradling him against his chassis.

Skydive hadn’t known what the words meant, or the long history behind them. But he’d understood the malice in his tormenters’ optics. He was young, not stupid. In that moment, watching Starscream comfort Skydive, Skyfire had suddenly felt that he’d failed as a creator. He’d wanted the Aerialbots to live a life free of the prejudices that had tormented himself and Star all through their academic careers. He would have given almost anything to be able to keep them blissfully ignorant for all eternity.

If Skydive found it suspicious that those same neutrals sought him out and apologized profusely the very next day, he said nothing about it.

After that, the only serious trouble was the time two exasperated Enforcers had showed up at the apartment with a surly-looking Air Raid and Slingshot. They’d been caught drawing graffiti on some of the old pre-war buildings with the Stunticons.

Though the Aerialbots had matured impressively over the last hundred vorns, they were still not too proud to gather around their adoptive creator to listen to old Vosian legends and sparkling-stories before falling into recharge. An irresistibly adorable scene greeted Skyfire’s optics when he walked into the main sitting area of their apartment that morning. Starscream was asleep in the middle of the floor, surrounded by the Aerialbots. Apparently they’d all fallen into recharge where they’d been sitting.

Starscream’s helm was tilted upwards, so Skyfire leaned down to kiss his bondmate awake.

“You’d better have a good reason for waking me up on my day off,” muttered Starscream. It was the end of the decacycle, which meant most of the planet took a solar-cycle-long break, similar to a human weekend.

“Have you forgotten what today is?” asked Skyfire.

Starscream froze up. “It’s not our anniversary, is it?”

Skyfire laughed. “No. Not our anniversary. But it is the Armistice’s anniversary. It’s one hundred vorns today. We have a treaty to write.”

Starscream’s optics flickered. “What, already?”

“Didn’t you set your chronometer to notify you?” asked Skyfire. It was clear Starscream hadn’t.

Starscream got up carefully, as not to disturb their sleeping offspring. Shaking a cramp from his wing, he asked, “Did we really never write a treaty?”

“I’m sure of it,” said Skyfire. “Come on, we’d better get to the Palace before the crowds start gathering.”

In the end, Iacon had been selected as the first city to be brought online. It came as a surprise to everyone, especially since the Decepticon officers had been so opposed to it. But deca-cycles had passed before the location was put to a vote. By then, everyone had grown accustomed to living in the city; some had even begun volunteering on restoration projects. For the first time ever, Iacon felt like it belonged to all mechs, not just the ruling class.

The Academy wasn’t anywhere near being reopened, but Starscream had coaxed a rather impressive grant from the new Senate in order to start what turned out to be one of the most prestigious schools in the city. The youngest students were Soundwave’s newest cassettes, Beastbox and Squawktalk. They weren’t twinned sparks like Rumble and Frenzy had been, but the two were still extraordinarily close. About sixty vorns after the Armistice, Soundwave had quietly confided to Skyfire that his spark was splitting off again. Squawktalk was protoformed about a stellar cycle later.

The unusual part had come just afterward, when the medics were scanning Soundwave in order to clear him for release and found that his spark had already begun a second separation process. A stellar cycle after _that_ , Beastbox was brought online.

Skyfire was one of the few mechs who had been allowed to even view the newest cassettes. As far as he knew, the only other non-medic visitors had been Blaster and Megatron. It had only become widely known that Soundwave had sparked two more cassettes after they received their final (and only) upgrades. After the elections, Soundwave had retreated to a home on the quiet outskirts of Iacon. It was clear that he still felt the loss of the twins as if it had happened yesterday. Only the Lord High Protector could coax him out for public events.

Megatron, for his part, had adjusted surprisingly well to post-war life. The rank of Lord High Protector suited him. Skyfire had been afraid the more violent Decepticons wouldn’t be able to adapt to civilian life at all, but there was always work to be done defending the planet from imperialistic alien races (especially now that it had been revived) and keeping an optic on the Quintessons. Despite Soundwave’s obvious preference to keep his symbiotes close, his older creations required more autonomy. Megatron was seldom seen without Laserbeak on his shoulder or Ravage winding her way around his pedes.

Skyfire brought Starscream a cube and they headed out on foot. They could have flown, but it wasn’t a particularly long walk to the Senatorial Palace and Skyfire liked to see the revitalized streets. Today, the city was quiet and peaceful—nobody seemed to be awake yet.

Skyfire had been expecting the central district to be a little more active, but when they arrived at their destination, they found only cleaning drones polishing the floors. A few bored-looking Enforcers could be seen strolling around, but otherwise the palace was quiet.

“Nobody’s here,” stated Starscream.

“Maybe we’re in the wrong place,” said Skyfire uneasily.

“Where else would the meeting be, Skyfire?” snapped Starscream.

“I don’t…know. Let me call Jazz.” Skyfire opened up a comm line and sent a ping.

[Hey! What’s up, my mech?] Jazz sounded a little more groggy than usual.

[I’m sorry, did I wake you?]

[Nah, it’s fine. Prowler’s been cleaning the apartment for a joor. I should be getting up anyway. What can I do for you?]

[I was just wondering…is there a Council meeting today?]

[No way, mech, it’s a holiday!]

[I know. But…the Armistice will be expiring today.]

Jazz went silent. Skyfire watched the numbers on his chronometer tick by.

[Wait, really?] asked Jazz.

[I’m afraid it escaped me as well,] said Skyfire. [I didn’t remember until I received an automatic notification. The only reason I ask is because we never…]

[…finished writing the treaty,] completed Jazz. [Oh slag. Hang on. Hang on.]

A moment later, a third presence joined the channel. Prowl. Skyfire hadn’t exactly avoided Prowl for the last hundred vorns, but he’d always been careful to never be alone in a room with the mech. He had the same policy for the twins and Red Alert.

[Was that today?] asked Prowl.

[I am afraid so,] said Skyfire.

[How did this happen?] demanded Shockwave. Apparently Jazz had invited him as well. [I cannot draft an entire treaty in one solar cycle!]

[The conditions of the Armistice were clear,] said Prowl. [One hundred vorns to draft a treaty.]

[But we didn’t need a treaty,] said Jazz. [Still don’t.]

[We really should have thrown something together.] That was Elita. It appeared Jazz was inviting everyone on his contact list.

[There was no time,] said Prowl. [The reconstruction effort took top priority, followed by elections—]

[What’s the issue here?] Megatron had just entered the channel. [Do you all have any idea what time it is?]

[We were supposed to be writing a treaty,] said Skyfire.

[Didn’t we—?]

[No,] said everyone else, simultaneously.

Prime was the next to join the channel. [I heard something about an emergency?] he asked.

[The Armistice, sweetspark,] said Elita. [We've spent the last hundred vorns doing everything except making the peace official.]

There was silence for a few klicks. Then:

[Was that today?] asked Prime.

[I have a proposal to make,] said Megatron. [I propose we all go back to recharge.] 

Everyone liked this plan very much. And so, secure in the understanding that no amount of paperwork (or lack thereof) could ruin the quiet morning, Skyfire and Starscream left the Senatorial Palace and went home.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Rift: Protectobots](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1672580) by [pink_shoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pink_shoes/pseuds/pink_shoes)




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